Brockton Bay Tactics
by Lord Mendasuit
Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.
1. 1-1 Squire

I wrote this thing. I don't know if I'll continue it, but I wrote it, and here it is.

* * *

 **Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

1.1 Squire

Dad's gone. He left a note pined to the fridge. Apparently, there was a problem at the office. The Dockworker's Union technically had a hierarchic position above his, but the 'head of hiring' had long since become the 'guy that calls the shots' when it became evident that the Dockworkers responded to him, not to whoever it was that received a paycheck for never showing up every month.

This is convenient, to say the least, because I haven't been alone to test my powers since I got out of the hospital, and it's... honestly not powers that I want people knowing I have.

Because it's powers that are causing me to have ethical concerns.

I don't even know how to classify it, but I'll put it in the best way I can. I'm a summoner. I summon living beings. I don't have enhanced strength, agility or intelligence, I can't shoot beams or fly, I cannot change my being, I cannot affect the world around me in ways any non powered human can't and other than this one specific thing, I cannot break the laws of physics, whether it be thermodynamics or otherwise.

The point is, I summon things. What things?

People. I summon people.

I can feel my power in the back of my mind. It is a source of knowledge, giving me information on itself.

I know what I can do. I can summon five soldiers that will fight for me with absolute loyalty. It sounds uncomfortably close to summon five mastered individuals that have no freedom or anything of the sort. Slaves. I... I've been having concerns about it, not to mention the fact that they'd be highly visible and people would ask questions.

For now, though, after getting out of the hospital, it's the first time I've had enough time alone to try out my power.

I will summon five. I know that there are twenty, more or less, that I can summon, but I can only summon five at a time. It's not an impossibility that I could grow to summon more at a time, but right now, I can only summon five. So that's what I do. I need to know how my power works. Fortunately, it is kind enough to tell me that there is indeed enough space for them to be summoned within the living room.

The effort from summoning them is more than I expected, and before I know anything, I'm already stumbling and falling forward, but I can feel a strong, and slender, arm wrap around my midsection and someone pulling me slightly back.

She is breath takingly beautiful.

She has a halo of gorgeous golden hair, falling smoothly like a waterfall behind her and framing her face, all at once. Her bright blue eyes are focused on mine, and her face is an expression of concern I haven't seen for a very long time. She has high cheekbones, aristocratic features wherevery you look, and her face is clear of any imperfections.

"Master, are you quite alright?" she also has a bit of an accent to her words - very slight, as if she'd been born in a very distant place, but had long since lived in the USA.

I blushed as she looked inquisitively at me. "I, er- I-"

She gives me a smile and helps me to my feet. "It is a pleasure to meet you, my master. I am your Knight, to serve you until death us do part," she said, guiding me to dad's armchair. As soon as I was seated, she sank until she knelt, one fist planted firmly in the ground and her head bowed.

"Ah, uh, rise," I said, more squeaked really.

I cannot believe a being this beautiful, this impressive, is bowing down to me. To little old me. A knight, bowing to me, as if I were a Princess or even Queen. To be honest, this knight, with her beautiful face and golden hair, looks far more noble than skinny and yet pudgy Taylor ever will. I feel like I should be the one kneeling before her, not the other way around.

I took a moment to glance upon her. She wore a white cape over a blue silken tunic, which itself was drapped over leather armor. I could only see the top of her breastplate, peeking over the open tunic, which covered her shapely bosom. The tunic was sinfully short, stopping at just mid thigh, and though hard to see, I knew she was wearing reinforced leather boots that went up to just short of her knee.

My power feeds me what I need to know. She is my Knight. She possesses supernatural abilities. It is named 'Battle Skill', and they're all based upon the sword I can see hanging from her waist. I know that she possesses the ability to destroy any sort of armor or covering without harming the person beneath - regardless of what kind of sword she is wielding. Even with a blunted wooden sword, she would be able to destroy, say, Armsmaster's armor without the slightest difficulty, and without giving him so much as a bruise.

She also possesses the ability to, through the same means, diminish a person's intelligence, physical strength or agility, and induce mental fatigue as well.

Her main set of abilities is a very versatile one, in terms of nonlethal takedown. The effects of all her abilities are temporary, but they last for a day, which means that it ultimately doesn't matter that they're temporary, as they won't run out in the middle of a fight, and they stack. Meaning, she can keep reducing someone's physical strength until they can't even lift their own body.

Similarly, she possessed a form of battle precognition that would allow her to parry perfectly, and was instantaneously a master in wielding any sort of sword and shield. Though what made me wonder was how one could be a 'master' at wearing armor. I guess she instantly knows how to put it on? Maybe it extends to tinker gear, she can basically use any sort of armor... yeah, actually, my power supplies, so long as it is classified as 'heavy armor', she can wear and use it like a master.

So it probably extends into tinkertech stuff. That... could actually be very useful.

The downside is that while she is very tough and strong, she is not very fast, and possesses no ranged abilities. She is, without a doubt, more of a protector than an attacker.

"Master, you are a bit red, are you perhaps running a fever? If so, do tell me, I shall clear it up right away!" someone else said, and my head automatically turned to meet another of the people I had summoned. It was another beautiful female, though whereas the Knight gave me the distinct impression of a Noble, this girl gave me the impression of a professional, of someone who obtained her position from sheer hard work, rather than being born to the right womb.

I started at the bottom, simple leather boots with reinforced tips, going up, starting with slender legs covered in very dark stockings. There is a notable difference, I can see the powerful muscle underneath the soft and supple skin of the Knight's exposed legs, but this new girl is very slim. She wears a dark, almost black, skirt and has a rather large brown leather bag, with many pockets and a golden belt buckle attached to a thick strap that was likely holding it closed. She wore a green blouse and had a green cloth that was tying her hair and holding it most of it away from her face, leaving only her brown fringe to frame her face. The rest of it was tied in a high ponytail, and I could tell at a glance it would only fall to just below her shoulders, though it was quite voluminous.

Her last piece of clothing was a white apron tossed over her blouse.

"I am fine," I said automatically.

"Goodness, Master, there is no need to lie, you should know that as your Chemist, you can trust me to dispel any ailment that befalls you," she said, giving me a smile that for some reason sent shivers down my spine.

My power is filling me in with what I need to know.

I know that she is a chemist, as she said, and I also know what that means. I say it's more alchemy than chemistry, really - she possesses the ability to mix concoctions that perform rather weird but extremely useful concoctions. In fact, she possesses the ability to create concoctions that make modern medicine look like a bunch of chimps playing with chemicals. Concoctions that do anything from healing physical wounds to curing diseases, genetic defects, blindness, muteness, crippled and lost limbs and basically make herself able to pull off many of the miracles Jesus was able to do. Except replace 'resurrect the dead' with 'resurrect the dying'. Apparently she could even give people a second lease at life if their bodies weren't too far gone for her concoctions to work.

She could also perform maintenance on items, weapons and armor, and for some reason, it is impossible to break or steal anything she has because of it. I don't know how it works, I only know that it does.

She is very weak and is not able to move fast enough to escape, she must be kept protected, but as a healer, she is invaluable. She is also only limited by how much preparation time I give her, and might be able to concoct some powerful offensive creations with time, even if she doesn't know any right now.

"I'll be okay," I said, leaning a bit back as she put her forehead against mine.

"You're burning hot, master," she said, and for some reason I can tell she's getting excited about getting to feed me something.

"That's 'cause she thinks you're hot, dumbass," someone else said. Someone with a much rougher tone to her voice. It was another blonde, though her eyes were the color of honey rather than sapphire like my Knight. Her hair was cut short and roughly so. Unlike the other two, who dressed somewhat sensibly, even if with provocative flair, this one was... well, she wore only leather boots, reinforced leather gloves, a blue and yellow bra and similar panties.

If my face had been red before, it was positively glowing now.

"Hah, and it seems I'm taking the prize!" she said, laughing out loud.

Her tits are huge. I cannot take my eyes away from them. Life is unfair. I think they should kill me. I mean, this is dumb. I summon a bunch of guys to serve me, and they're all prettier and cuter than me and this one is giving me a worse case of breast envy than Emma ever did.

"Uhm... Master, your breasts are perfectly fine as they are, you don't need to, uhm, compare yourself to the Monk," my beautiful knight said.

"Oh, kill me now, I just said that out loud didn't I?" I asked.

"Yes, yes you did, and I'm glad you like my tits so much, Master," the Monk said, winking at me. "You can play with them wheneeeever you want! Just ask. Or don't. If you want to assault me while I'm sitting unaware, that's your right," she said, nodding at me. "A~ny~time~"

I think I might have fainted for a moment.

Still, the information came into my brain. She was a Monk, and she was all about punching people. To a degree. What 'punching people' here means can be rather wide a spectrum because of how her abilities work. She can punch at a distance. Or punch the Earth and cause it to be the one to punch you instead. Or punch a bunch of pressure points in your body that will cause a delayed effect and make you explode a while later. Or cleanse her own body of any abnormality by mentally punching her sickness or disability away. She can also enhance natural recovery of herself and those next to her - clearing both physical as well as mental fatigue, and restore consciousness. By yelling. No, I am not making that up.

She, too, possesses a sort of battle precognition, which allows her to know when someone will attack her and how to best prevent that attack from happening, namely, attacking first. It's not perfect - it won't trigger if she can't see the attack coming, unlike my Knight's instinctive guard - but it allows her to intercept attacks before they happen.

She gave me a friendly, carefree and lazy smile that told me she wasn't done teasing.

"Ah, Master..?" someone said, seemingly trying to call my attention. A female voice that my brain doesn't know, and doesn't belong to any of the three already introduced. "Uhm, I'm your squire, it's a pleasure to serve you!"

Unlike the others, who all look like grown up adults, the sight that greets me as I turn my head to face the Squire is that of a very young girl, possibly no older than me. She stands at about even height with our chemist, and while she's kneeling now, I know she would only reach my knight's shoulders, and would be even more out of place next to the monk. It's only now that I realize that these people are taller than me, and the Monk is approaching dad's height. Dad's a pretty tall guy, and women are, generally, shorter than men.

Still, I focus my sight on the Squire, who looks the youngest, and yet seems to take mostly after the monk, given how scantly clad she is. Her feet are armored, but instead of armor, she has stockings of the same color as her armor going up to her mid thigh, and what seems to be an armored bikini bottom. I need to get this girl a skirt ASAP. And a shirt, for that matter, given that her top is basically just an armored bra. And of course, even though she's shorter than me, she's got bigger breasts. Then again, hers are around Emma's size, so it's probably right for her, while I'm the breastless anomaly.

At least her arms are armored. She wears long gloves and has armored forearms and biceps. I know that she's probably going for something that is giving her freedom of movement, but damn, girl, that doesn't mean you should go around wearing something that can probably get one of us arrested for indecency!

Her hair is set in pigtails, and she has an innocent face, her eyes are close to my own shade of brown, and she looks a bit uncertain. "I'm sorry I'm such a weak soldier for you, Master!" she said, closing her eyes and bowing down her head.

Shit. I don't like that at all. That feeling... She goes down to her knees and I can't help but feel sympathy. "Ah- no, don't- Don't be-" I couldn't articulate it into words.

"I think," the Knight began, "that what Master means, is that she does not mind your inexperience," she said. "And appreciates your potential for growth," she added.

Goddammit girl I could kiss you for saving my bacon like that.

The Squire lifts her eyes and looks at me. I can see that she's about to tear up. "Really?" she asks.

"Yes!" I said. I can outright SEE the potential for growth in her. My power tells me that she is more than she might seem at a first glance. Yes, she is young and weak now, and possesses only basic skills, but I know that, properly used, her abilities are invaluable.

I can already tell that her Basic Skills are there to grow. She possesses no outstanding skills yet - instead, she can learn a great deal of abilities from her allies. She can learn to meditate and increase her strength like the Monk, she can learn to perform as a field medic, at least for preliminary treatment of injuries, like the chemist. Stuff like that.

Especifically, she possesses a Thinker ability that increases her ability to learn immensely, making her a potential Jack of All Trades, Master of None, that could even grow into a Master of All Trades with enough time, effort and discipline.

"Believe me, I know," I said, giving her the kindest smile I can. "You might be weak now, but give yourself time."

"Yeah, squirt, I can already tell - you'll be the strongest of us one day," the Monk said, grinning at her, "but it's gonna take time, effort and a whole lotta pain!"

She's not wrong. She might have advantages towards learning and training, but she still needs to learn and train like anyone else. She, unlike most of the others so far, is very mobile. It's probably why she wears such light armor - she has no other advantage, currently, over anyone else, so she makes do with being faster on her feet.

"Are we done with the sappy bullshit yet?" someone asked. It was another female, her voice being low, soft and almost lacking in any sort of emotion, despite the words utilized. There is a certain undercurrent of hostility and standoffishness to it.

But it's more apparent when I lay my eyes on the final member of the troupe I summoned. It is, yet again, a scantily clad woman. From bottom to top, she wore simplistic leather boots, though I can tell they had thicker soles than the others', bare legs and only something that can be described as someone having tried to use a hand towel for a skirt, which only wrapped around half of her, leaving her left leg bare and the leather, and yes I can tell they're leather, panties that she wore to be highly visible. Her top was a tube top, covering only her breasts and little else, though covering them fully, and it was strapped over her right shoulder. To complete the asymmetry theme, she wore a thick and padded arm sleeve on her right arm, but only a normal leather glove on her left. Her hair was loosely tied behind her, and it was noticeably untidy, as if she hadn't brushed it, ever.

An affront to my sensibilities. Hair is important, woman.

Also she has the smallest breasts of the lot so I'm happy about that at least - she's the only one that doesn't make me feel inadequate. Also she looks kinda angry, but not at me, more like angry in general.

"Such disrespect, I should-" the Knight began, but I raised my hand, causing her to stop immediately.

"No, she doesn't mean to disrespect me, I think," I said.

She snorted. "What if I do?"

The Knight was on her feet. "You're an Archer and you're locked in a room with a Monk and a Knight," she said, "how do you think this goes?"

"Stand down," I said, glaring at my overeager Knight, who seemed to be ashamed of her own outburst.

"Master, forgive my disobedience," she said, bowing her head at me, "but I cannot allow this upstart to go unpunished-"

"Look, girl, I'm all for defending Master and all that, but Master doesn't want us to pummel her, no matter how uppity she gets. Because she's nice like that, aren't you Mas~ter?" the monk said, turning to me.

"Well, if this is the issue, I do believe I know some medicine that should fix her rotten attitude," the Chemist said, giving the Archer a rather scathing glare.

"Ah, please, don't fight! Master doesn't like it!" the Squire said.

Well, at least one of them was paying attention to me. "Thank you," I said, "Archer, stop provoking them."

The Archer smiled at her nominal allies. It wasn't a nice smile.

My face must've shown my anger, because the Squire squeaked and tried to make herself look smaller. I... can't believe it. My power is feeding me information on her. She is the Archer.

I know that she possesses the ability to increase the power of her shots, seemingly without needing a better bow, just by concentrating and preparing for a shot, to a ridiculous degree. That ability alone makes her a Brute Killer, since she also possesses immense rage and ridiculous eyesight that allows her to hit targets she should not be able to hit, even if the enemy tries to dodge it. She is only limited by how far she can make an arrow travel, which will likely be a limitation that is easy to overcome. Maybe I can get her a tinkertech bow or something.

There's also the fact that she possesses precognition that allows her to dodge any projectile attack and even more, that when struck, she simply becomes faster, probably so she can dodge whatever comes next, and that she possesses an enhanced ability to jump... again, probably so she can get into better positions to shoot from.

I don't understand why she is hostile, though. My power tells me that they should be loyal and obedient, so why is she hostile and standoffish?

A wave of relief overcomes me. I understand now. They're loyal and obedient, but just because they are that way doesn't mean that it overwrites whatever personality they have. This... is actually relieving. They are their own people, yes, and they're obligated to serve me, but the fact that one of them can be angry about it means that the others are not being forced to say that they like serving me. That's just how they are.

"Archer," I began, thinking of how to solve this issue. Well... I think I got it. "Archer, Knight, I want you two to shake hands."

The Knight looked somewhat puzzled. "Master, this girl has insulted you, she needs to be disciplined."

"Pfft, I think I know what you're trying to do, and it ain't gonna work," the Archer replied. "Look, I can shut up and work with them," she said, "but just don't expect me to join in on all the sappy bullshit or group hugs or any of that crap," she said. "But otherwise, just let me do my own thing and we'll be fine."

"Uhm... okay, I guess." I can work with that. "Knight, is that enough of a compromise?"

"I still cannot condone her disrespect," she admitted. "I too, can work together with her if only for your sake, but still-"

"Please," I said, "just let it go. She is not intending to disrespect me, she is..."

The Chemist tilted her head. "I understand a bit of irreverence," she admitted, "but I think she's taking advantage of your kindness, master. I do believe I know a few concoctions that would help in this situation..."

"No, no blowing up your own allies and that's final," I said, frowning. "I don't intend to impose my will on yours. It's already bad enough that you're forced to serve me, I don't want to be a slave owner or anything of the sort."

The Knight sighed. "I see. That fear plagues you, then? Worry not, Master. Though I am bound to your will, know that I follow it willingly and with great pride," she said, drawing her sword. "On this, my sword, I promise my utmost and undying loyalty to you, my fair Queen."

The Squire quickly hurried to imitate the older, more experienced knight.

The Monk laughed. "Same here," she said, "I'm not one for formalities."

I gathered that much.

The Chemist smiled my way. "Master is nice, so I don't mind serving her."

The last one was the Archer, who just snorted. "What did I just say? I'm not participating in this," she said. "But fine, whatever," she said, shrugging.

"In other words," the Knight summarized, "we obey you because we want to obey you, Master. Even her."

The Archer made it a point to look away with an expression of distaste that even I can tell isn't entirely honest. The Knight is right, she's not as averse to working under me as she pretends to be - it's odd. Maybe her attitude was a test of some sort? If so, it seems like I might've passed and I'm really glad that she's not as hostile as I thought she was at first.

I sighed. It really is a load off my shoulders that I'm not enslaving them. "Thank you," I said, sincerely and giving my gathered troops a smile that I hope conveys just how glad I am that they're not unwilling slaves.

Also, if they've got their own will... I might even be able to have friends again.

Then, however, something struck me. I cannot unsummon them. And I just now realized that. My power did not tell me I would be unable to return my summons to their place of origin or even to somewhere they could wait until they were useful. Indeed, they were here, and they were stuck here, and there were a lot of problems regarding that, but one of them was the most pertinent.

It appears my agitation was evident, because the Chemist instantly seemed to be ready to offer to feed me something for whatever malady I might appear to have, but I preempted her.

"... how the hell am I going to explain your presence to dad?"

* * *

Yes, this is what you think it is.

Taylor just summoned five of the generic Jobs from Final Fantasy Tactics. She has the ability to summon each and every one of them. Yes, even the Dark Knight and the Onion Knight. Eventually. She needs to level up a bit first.

This idea came to me because while I was making wallpaper for my desktop I came across a picture withe lewded up versions of all of the game's female classes. Then I thought it would be funny if Taylor had to deal with her summons being scantily clad beautiful women, and being tortured with images of the beefcakes that could've been.

Her party is a very basic one. She's got a Tank, a DPS dealer, an utility fighter who can move around the battlefield to set up flanking, a ranged supporter and a healer.

For the record, here's their equipment, listing only the items that are actually giving them any benefits:

Squire: Broadsword, Clothes (well, she's not wearing them yet, but Taylor will give her a set), Battle Boots

Chemist: Dagger, Clothes, Battle Boots

Knight: Defender, Escutcheon, Silken Robe, Small Mantle, Battle Boots

Monk: Power Gauntlet, Battle Boots

Archer: Longbow, Clothes, Spiked Boots

All of them, except the Squire who has it at level one, has their job level at 8 and Mastered.

Running out of MP produces Thinker Headaches, so in return, Thinker Headaches can be countered by stuff like Chakra (which restores MP and HP, though I 'nerfed' it so that it only restores stamina and doesn't actually heal you because otherwise the Monk is retardedly powerful) and Ethers (which are hard to make).

Now, in order to make stuff fit better, I did change a few things around. For instance, the Squire can learn a wide array of skills from the other members of the party. Well, technically everyone can, it's just that the Squire has Gained JP Up, which I translate to her being able to learn skills at a rate fast enough that she can actually learn stuff fast enough to be useful. No magic, though, just physical and mental skills. So she could, say, learn Cheer Up from a Mediator, learn Accumulate from a Monk, learn how to dual wield from a ninja, etc. She's basically the only one allowed to equip other classes' skills, is what I'm saying.

I intentionally gave all of them basic equipment so one of the obstacles Taylor faces is getting them good equipment. Admittedly, the Defender is a very good sword, and a unique one at that, but it IS the weakest Knight Sword. The idea is that if she wants them to really excel, she'd have to get them Tinkertech stuff.

They also have ALL the reaction and support abilities of their class at the same time. For instance, Archer has both Arrow Guard and Speed Save, the Monk has HP Restore, Counter and Hamedo. This is why Hamedo is imperfect - if she can't see an attack, she can't use Hamedo to counter it before it hits her.

Does it make sense? No? Well, whatever.


	2. 1-2 Squire

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

1.2 Squire

As I leaned back into the armchair, the five I had summoned seemed at a loss on what to do. "I... Is that a problem, Master?" the Knight asked. "My lady, if that's an issue, then I will, of course, take upon the duty of informing your father myself..."

Sighing, I shook my head. "Thank you for the offer, Knight, but I can't ask you to do that - it's my responsibility."

The Monk threw herself at the larger couch and stretched her hands, showing that fully stretched, her arms almost reached the very end of the backrest on both sides. She gave us a smile and crossed her legs. "Well, Master, if that's what it is, then the only thing I can say is that you might as well just do it. Like ripping a stuck bandage off," she said, her smile widening a bit. "Then again, if you'll allow me to help, I can always relax him a bit after~" she said, winking.

That caught my attention, but when I tried to retort, my mouth stumbled and my brain rebooted. "buwha?"

Eloquent, Taylor. You're the best.

Apparently, my blush was luminescent, 'cause everyone noticed it. The Knight seemed disapproving, while the Chemist chuckled. The Archer, meanwhile, simply turned on the TV and went to lean against a wall, watching the news. I'm surprised she even knows what it is and how to work it. "Huh. You know, I just realized... you guys don't seem like you'd mesh with modern times, if you get what I'm saying."

The Knight smiled at me. "That's not a problem, Master," she said.

"You can all sit you know," I added, noticing that she looked a bit unsure of what to do with herself.

She shook her head. "I'd rather stand at your side, if that's no problem..?" she asked.

I shrugged. "If you wish," I said. Her smile was almost incandescent as she moved to stand behind me and a bit to the left. I moved the armchair so I could see the TV but also pay attention to the Monk on the couch. I saw the Squire, being led by the Chemist, sit down on the couch to the Monk's left, while the Chemist sat on her right.

"Master, when we were summoned, we received from you information on the modern world, language and customs," Chemist explained.

It... actually explains why I can still tell there's a slight accent when they talk. Mom would probably be able to tell me more in depth... I nodded. "That's good to know. But I'm still curious, what... do you mean when you said you'll help my dad relax?" I asked, turning to the Monk, who was seemingly waiting patiently for me to ask the question.

"I am very good at giving... massages," Monk said, giving me a grin that I could describe as 'salacious' if I knew for sure that it means what I think it means. I still will, nobody has to know I don't actually know what that word means. I'll look it up later. If I remember anyway.

"She means actual massages, by the way," Archer stated, looking somewhat bored from her spot. "She's trying to turn it into innuendo, but she's a Monk, she knows the human body very well, she means actual massages."

"Stop spoiling my fun," Monk said, "teasing our innocent Master is our duty, just as much as protecting her is."

"I would say not," Knight replied, glaring at her. "In fact, if I didn't know that you are trying to help, in your own way, I would suggest that you stay your tongue lest you lose it."

"Hey now," I said, interrupting their spat. "No threats," I said, "no violence," I added. "Thank you for clarifying, Archer," I said.

"Whatever," she replied, changing the channel.

We're watching the news, but from another channel. Pity. I liked the other anchor.

"Still, the point is, I don't know how to break the news to my dad that I'm a Parahuman, much less that we have five more mouths to feed!" I said. "Uh... Shit, I didn't think about that, how the hell am I gonna feed you guys?"

"Well, Master, if I may be so bold," the Knight said, "I could suggest that we find jobs to help you and your father?"

Maybe it could work.

"The job market in Brockton Bay isn't doing so hot from what Dad tells me."

It was true. I couldn't help remembering that Dad was always talking about workers leaving the Union to work for Super Villains simply because there was not enough work, and what there was just didn't pay enough. Brockton Bay had long ago become a city for the white collar worker, and the grand majority of people didn't exactly fit the new requirements.

"Well... I could always create and sell medicine. It's a bit expensive to start up, I would require quite a few materials as well as tools, but it should prove quite lucrative," Chemist offered.

"That's a start," I said, nodding, "but we'll need the capital to start up. And... well, dad and I just went through a very financially draining experience. We don't have much in the way of capital."

Chemist nodded.

"Mercenary work," Archer said.

"Muscle is always appreciated," Monk noted, "but that's likely to be illicit dealings, and I'm not quite sure our Master wants us to be criminals. Me? I have no problem defying the law if it would put a meal in my stomach, but if Master says no, then that means no," she said.

The Knight beside me nodded. "While I am perfectly willing to defy the law for our Master, I am glad that she and I share a similar opinion, we should not be lawbreakers."

Squire nodded fervently. "I'd like to remain on the side of good, too," she said, giving me a smile, as if thanking me for being a law abiding citizen.

She's cute, I can't deny it.

"How about doing security?" Monk said.

The others seemed to be okay with it.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I think I understand what she's getting at, but it'll need a bit of research first.

"Well, we're stronger than your average person. I mean, even Chemist here," she said, patting the only other brown haired person in the room, "would surprise you," she said.

"How so?" I asked.

"Well, I can say I'm no powerhouse," Chemist said, "but I am trained in how to handle knives and firearms," she admitted. "We chemists are high priority targets in the battlefield, so we generally try to stay in shape so we can run away and train in handling of small weapons that we can easily conceal and pull out when necessary," she said, then opened her medicine bag and pulled out a gleaming iron dagger. Then she performed a few quick slashes and a stab, her hand moving faster than my eye could track.

She's not super fast, but she is fast and I can see that she moves with skill. She'd probably be capable of doing some serious damage if she could put her body weight behind those attacks, but she couldn't do so while seated.

"It just hit me that four out of you have mostly lethal weaponry," I admitted. "And... that's not really a good thing."

"We are capable of fighting nonlethally," Knight assured me.

I know she can, at least - she can make her enemies weak as a kitten, destroy their clothes without harming them, disarm them, and her sword was a very broad type designed for ease of usage as a blocking weapon, meaning it was very heavy and could likely make for a pretty useful club if she used the flat side. A bit dangerous - she could still cut people by accident - but less than lethal. She could also use her shield to bash people.

"Ehm..." Squire seemed at a loss. "I'm sorry, Master," she admitted. "I'm not good enough to subdue people without going for dangerous attacks," she said, hanging her head.

"We can work on that," Knight promised. "Don't be discouraged."

She wasn't. She was ashamed of her inadequacy, but it seemed she was willing to work to overcome it. It was good. Better than she'd been moments before anyway.

"I can just aim at their limbs. I'm very good," Archer said, shrugging.

I could probably get her tinker-designed tranquilizer arrows or something along those lines. I knew of Shadow Stalker, knew she wielded crossbows that shot tranquilizer darts, so I knew it could be done. But that'd take a lot of money, more so to keep stocked.

"We can join the Protectorate," I said. "Uh... actually, that could be a problem. I'm technically the only parahuman here, you're all part of my 'Power', so to speak," I admitted. "So I don't know if they'd just pay me a monthly salary instead of paying each of you. It wouldn't be much, I know the Wards don't really make all that much money, but it'd probably be enough," I said.

"That is an option," Knight agreed, "and it would put us firmly on the law's side."

"I don't like it," Archer said. "I don't like joining an organization I don't know very much about."

I blushed. They had my knowledge of the world. That meant she considered my knowledge of the protectorate to be meager and insufficient. "We can always research them?" I asked.

"I don't care either way," Monk said. "Though there is a possibility they might not understand your power and try to separate us from you. That's... probably not going to end well."

Huh? My power hasn't told me anything about a problem relating to distance. "Is there a distance limit or something?" I asked.

"No, you're just reckless, if we weren't around you'd probably get yourself hurt, or involved in a situation that you can't solve," Monk said, giving me an indulgent smile.

"I... think it would be unwise to leave Master alone," Knight stated, just short of admitting she agreed. "Furthermore, I believe myself, Monk and Chemist are all over the age of majority in this country, if I am not mistaken?"

"Twenty six," Monk supplied.

"Twenty two," Chemist added.

"Ah, sixteen!" Squire supplied.

"Seventeen," Archer said, suddenly sounding almost surly.

"And I am thirty one," Knight finished.

"Bullshit," I said. "You don't look a day over twenty!" I said.

She chuckled. "Thank you for the compliment, Master, but I am indeed thirty one summers, or years, long," she admitted.

"Chemists do excellent work," Chemist said, blowing on her fingernails and polishing them on her apron, winking at me.

The Knight nodded. "If it weren't for the chemist in my squad, I would be a barely recognizable mass of scars," she added.

I whistled. "People would pay a fortune if you can make stuff that makes people THAT pretty and young looking."

Chemist nodded. "There's a reason why Chemists are as valued as we are, and why we are the only commoners that the Noblesse would willingly accept into their home," she said, sounding and looking quite proud.

I imagine. She's probably seen some pretty grandiose places.

"Well," I began, "you would probably be full members of the Protectorate. It's better pay and it doesn't go into a trust fund for you guys," I explained.

"Yes, but we'd likely get little to no interaction with you," Knight said. "I think we should consider it, but keep our minds and hearts open to other ideas."

"I think I've got an idea," Chemist said, "we can just go after the illegal holdings of criminals. I don't think anyone will care if we steal from criminals," she said.

Archer snorted. "That sounds like it should've come from me. You've got an edge to you," she said.

"I do own a knife yes," Chemist said, winking at her. "I'm not new to that kind of work."

I frowned. "I don't think it'd be a good idea. There's some right down monsters in Brockton Bay, and the last thing I want is you guys going up against Lung, no matter how powerful you all are, that guy's taken on entire teams of heroes and he's still out and about."

Knight smiled. "Much as I enjoy the fact that you are worried about our safety, Master, we are here to help you. Our safety and good health are secondary to yours, and we'd sacrifice ourselves, draw his attention away, so you could have the money."

"Talk about yourself," Archer said.

"Well, most of us," Knight amended.

"It's a possibility," I finished, "I... don't think I want to join the wards, at least not just yet. I don't really want to deal with teenage drama and bullshit, and just getting into another group that I don't know. For all I know, they'll think I'm useless or something since I'm not the one out and about..."

"I don't think they would, and if they did, Master," Knight said, "I would put them to rights. Would they be heroes, if they were that kind of people?" she asked.

I sighed. She's right, I know she's right, I'm just being a big scared baby about meeting new people. "Okay, fine, I'll consider it seriously. But still, I'd have to tell dad that I'm a parahuman if I wanted to join the wards-"

"... I think the boat sort of sailed on that one, kiddo."

It was the first time a male voice had reached my ears in a while, and it's one I know well. I turned my head. "Uh... hi dad," I said.

"Good evening, Taylor," he said, "And... Who are these people?"

Knight seemed to take point. "My name is Knight," she said, gesturing towards herself and then gesturing to the couch with her arm. Dad followed her. "From left to right, those are Squire, Monk and Chemist."

I could see his eyes bug out at how Squire and Monk were dressed. A little, his glasses didn't allow them to go very far, and the image is funny to me shut up.

"And over there's Archer," she said, gesturing to where Archer laid against the wall. She turned off the TV and turned to face dad.

He was also shocked by her choice of 'costume'.

"Taylor, I need an explanation, and I think it might be important," he said.

"Well, Dad, the short of it is that I'm a Parahuman," I explained, "and the long is that they are my power."

"Wat."

I can tell that his question doesn't have a question mark. Mom always talked about deliberately writing things wrong to make the point more poignant. I choose to believe it applies to spoken words as well.

"Well, my power is to summon them," I said. "And give them orders, I guess," I added.

"We obey your commands," Knight said.

"So let me get this straight. The locker, right?" he asked.

"Right," I admitted. I haven't really had a chance to try summoning them until now, so I don't blame him for not noticing. I think he will blame himself for not noticing, though. Ever since January, he's been beating himself up for being a bad father. I know that I can't convince him that I understand, that he's been grieving way harder than I ever did. It wouldn't do anything to tell him.

"You never told me," he said.

"I never told you," I agreed, "I didn't think it would be that good an idea. You... you already have so much in your plate that I didn't want to throw this on top of it too."

He sighed. "Taylor, it's not your job to worry about me," he ran his hands through his thinning hair, "I'm your father, Taylor, I'm supposed to look after you, not the other way around. You should've told me. Have... have you contacted the PRT or Protectorate yet?"

I shook my head. "Not yet... I don't really know if I want to join the Wards. I mean, I myself am basically useless - all I do is summon and, technically, control them, they're the really powerful ones," I said.

"We are an extension of your strength, Master, considers us as such," Knight said. "Our power is your power."

Archer snorted.

"Well... I think there aren't really that many options," he said. "I mean, unless you're going to be a villain?"

I shook my head, almost frantic. "No, never," I said. "That's not an option."

"Well, then... I'll support you in whatever choice you make, Taylor, but I... I really am advocating that one."

"You were listening," I said, suspicious.

He nodded. "I was," he admitted.

"Did none of you notice?" I asked.

Knight blushed in embarrasment. "Apologies, master, I am a Knight, not a tracker."

"Ah... well, I wasn't paying attention," Monk admitted.

"Same here," Chemist added.

"Sorry I'm useless," Squire said, only to be smacked by Monk for it, she also said something to Squire that perked her up so I let it go.

"I noticed," Archer said.

"Then why didn't you tell me?" I accused.

"He's not an enemy, you didn't say I had to be on lookout," Archer said, shrugging. "You need to be more specific."

I glared at her, but dad chuckled. "I can give you a few pointers in handling smartasses, kiddo," he said, "but seriously, that's my armchair."

Then I glared at him.

"Nevertheless, I've heard your options. I'm endorsing going to the PRT and Protectorate. They can help you, they can look after you... And also, they'd probably fall all over themselves to help you, since you bring in so many parahuman-level people with you."

I laughed. "That's true," I admitted.

"Also, everyone knows the Wards go to Arcadia, so they can probably get you out of Winslow."

I...

Huh.

I hadn't thought of that.

Fuck all the noise. That's enough of an argument for me.

"Okay, dad, you're right, it probably is the best option."


	3. 1-3 Squire

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

1.3 Squire

To my utmost disappointment, we did not go to the rig, where I would get introduced to Armsmaster who would then introduced to the wards.

I'm sorry I'm still a teenager and still have fantasies I'd like to be realized some day. Like meeting Armsmaster. Or Dauntless. I really want to ask him why he chose to stay in Brockton Bay. Guy should know this place is a shithole. At least I know I'm staying because of Dad.

Instead, we went to a PRT office downtown, probably their 'HQ', though everyone knew that the Protectorate and PRT shared The Rig as their operations headquarters anyway. It only made sense - it was very well fortified, hard to get to and easy to defend. Pretty much the only downside it had was that it was in the bay itself, and that meant that it was a very easy target for Leviathan, but I assume that they've probably taken precautions about Aquaman's Revenge.

Yes I've watched Superfriends, shut up, it's awesome, and no, it's not proof that I'm a cape geek willing to watch anything just because it has superheroes in it.

Watching a pair of grown men be embarrassed about it had been fun.

Then again, if we hadn't put some clothes, forcibly in some cases, on most of my 'squad', I'd probably be turning a lot more heads than I already am. And believe you me, these girls were turning a LOT of heads.

We decided to walk there.

Mistake, to say the least.

Before we could go outside, both me and dad agreed on a few ground rules for my troops. For starters, I could not, and would not, allow Squire out of the house in what she would seem convinced is appropriate armor. To this end, I gave her a pair of pants and a shirt, straight out of my wardrobe. She was swimming in them, pretty much, but luckily, Chemist carries around a field medicine kit, which does, in fact, include scissors, a needle and thread, so we were able to make a few adjustments. Nothing too fancy, I admit, but at least she can pass for a civilian.

Chemist was the easiest - she just took off the apron and the cloth on her head and was wearing a sensible, if a bit skimpy, outfit that didn't draw attention for being weird and out of place. Not even with the oversized bag she carried around.

Similarly, Knight was not very difficult, she took off her mantle and untied the belt holding her sword's scabbard in place. While she could hide her shield in her mantle, somehow, she could not do the same for her sword. Still, without the mantle, she had to leave the shield behind too. I can tell she feels a little naked without her weapons.

Archer could get away with putting on a pair of my pants. She was only a bit shorter than me, so they actually fit, and since she actually has an ass to speak off, they clung to her figure, instead of hanging like they would from mine. She complained that they were a bit tight around the hip area, but I took something of a perverse pleasure in watching her squirm, even as she insisted that her coming along was unnecessary. Her top would likely draw stares, but I'd given her a jacket and told her to keep it at least zipped up enough to cover her belly.

There's no way my shirts will fit her. I wear boy shirts since I look like one, and it'd likely be very uncomfortable for someone with her breast size. Dad's are just too big, we wouldn't even be able to approach something acceptable like we did for Squire.

Monk was a bit more reticent to put on clothes. She insisted that a bikini, which was what I compared her clothes to, was perfectly okay to wear in public. I retorted that, for one, it's not summer, where you'd expect to see Bikinis, we're approaching the end of winter and it's still cold as balls outside. For another, people didn't walk around the city in bikinis in the dark. Yeah, you could expect to see people wearing them walking around the boardwalk, mostly women though there seemed to be at least one guy dared to wear a bikini every summer, but the further you got from there, the less likely you were to see them.

Ultimately, she decided she might as well comply and took an outfit from dad. Naturally, it looked better on her than it ever would on poor old dad, and her breasts were straining his shirt something fierce. She seemed amused by making a point to cause them to bounce in sight of either me or my father.

I am ashamed to admit dad's got better self control than me. They're just hypnotic. And bouncy. And round. And-

Okay, if I go there this'll stay in the gutter for the foreseeable future.

So, moving on, the point is, once we had them dressed non conspicuously, we set out. The office we were going to, the HQ, was on the Boardwalk, and as it was a weekend, it was still pretty active even though it was late evening.

Mostly active with quite a few young people, and a whole lot of young men.

Do the math. Dad's the only male in our group, and he's clearly non-threatening - thin as a rail, balding, not exactly the picture of health besides -, while every other member of the group other than me and dad is a very attractive and/or cute young woman. Or unfairly young looking adult woman. I still think she's bullshitting me about her age by the way.

Point is, they drew stares. A lot of stares. Chemist and Knight both were criminally short skirts. And their skirts are criminal, I swear. I know for a fact that Knight will probably have to keep her mantle on at all times - if she so much as bends forward, she'd give everyone behind her a very nice view of her ass. Granted, she walks straight as a ramrod and her posture is the envy of models everywhere, so it doesn't happen very often, but I can already tell that if it wasn't for that, she'd be giving constant pantyshots.

I wonder if the Protectorate will take issue with how shameless they really are.

It's... honestly, I actually kind of get it. They have amazing bodies, and if I had a body like that, I would probably be proud enough of it to show it off.

Shit, I just realized. Just about all of them, they're all beautiful, I could've put them to work as models! Emma apparently makes enough money to buy herself the clothes that catch her eye, and sometimes even gets designer clothing for free, and while I can say my former friend is a very good looking girl even if her soul is ugly, she basically looks like, well, me, when put next to any of my summons.

Then again, that would put them in the public eye and likely never allow them the freedom of movement necessary to be heroes, and since none of them suggested it, I don't think any of them is interested in the slightest.

Well... At least I know they would've been succesful.

I saw a teen boy actually drop to the ground, clearly looking to get a peek up Knight's skirt. I glared at him, but he clearly didn't take notice.

We even actually found trouble on the way there, when some rather insistent punks gathered around us. We were walking in formation, Knight had taken point with Squire at her left and Monk to her right, while to my own left was Chemist, to my right was Archer and Dad was bringing the rear. I'm actually surprised how natural it was to fall in formation like that.

Their 'leader', a skinhead dumbass who had a prominent tattoo running down his arm of a sword engraved with three 'E's. He had rather large muscles and clearly was confident of his body. "Hello there, girls," he said, his tone oily and failing to be smooth, "why don't you ditch the dweeb and come with us to have some fun?"

Knight gave him an unassuming smile. "Dweeb?" she asked.

Her tone is cold enough to drop the ambient temperature.

"Yeah, babe, drop the baggage, come on," he insisted.

Knight dropped her smile, took a step and slapped him. Most everyone else was stunned, the guy himself fell to the floor, clutching his aching jaw, which was already reddening and looking like it would bruise and swell.

"The next person to insult Taylor," she said, pausing as if hesitant to continue before giving me a glance. I nodded, knowing that she wanted permission to use my name, "will not be conscious long enough to regret it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Fuck you and your dweeby boyfriend, bitch!" A brave moron took a step forward and made as if to attack her, but her hand shot to his grasping arm, catching him by the wrist, and then she twisted it, turning him around and then kicking the back of his knee to bring him to the ground. She then used her free hand to punch him in the back of the head. He was out like a light.

The others dispersed after that, one grabbing the guy who was still clutching his jaw and helping him up while two lifted the unconscious guy and half dragged, half supported him away.

"I think I broke his jaw," Knight said.

"I know you broke his jaw," Monk said, amusement clear in her voice.

"Damn," dad said, he too seemed slightly amused and relieved, somewhat. "I figured you had to be strong, swinging around that sword, but that's stronger than I thought."

"I'm not as strong as Monk," Knight said, turning around to face the whole group, "but just because I'm not as strong as her doesn't mean I'm not strong enough to send some snot nosed upstart crying," she said, before turning around.

"Honestly," someone from the crowd said, "that just turns me on more."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I don't think I like the fact that they confused me with a boy."

"Well, in your defense, Master, you would make an extraordinarily pretty boy," Knight said, though even I could tell she was trying to cheer me up and failing.

Monk grinned as she looked me up and down. "You'd have to get some exercise in, but I do recall my family kept a ladyboy as a servant. Father seemed taken with him," she said.

My eyebrows couldn't go any further up. "What."

"As you heard," Chemist said. "Having visited several homes of noble families, it was not an uncommon practice. For all that they despised homosexuality, it was a surprisingly common practice to keep effeminate boys as servants that would often be utilized in... such fashion," she explained.

Squire squeaked and blushed bright red. I'm gonna guess that her family had one too. "We had three." I stand corrected.

"Damn, you must come from some hella wealthy stock," Archer said, shaking her head. "Nah, Dad spent too much time hunting to indulge in such practices."

Knight sighed. "I do not know the affairs of my family," she admitted.

"We're kind of making a scene," Dad said, and I realize he was right.

"We should keep moving," I ordered, and the others nodded.

If I'm lucky, people will just assume they're european aristocrats.

Fortunately, that was the most excitement we had for the trip to the PRT HQ.

Needless to say, actually registering as a parahuman was a bit difficult. They apparently assumed I was not actually there to become a Ward, so they went through the process of registering me as an Indie Hero before I looked at one of the forms, noticed it said 'Independant Hero Team Registration Form #44932', and asked what that meant when I was actually there to join the Protectorate and become a Ward.

That wasn't, by itself, problematic. No, what became problematic was that I had come with five individuals who could boast parahuman-like powers of their own.

And I could not do so.

It was a bit strange. They provided us with masks, told us that the footage of us in 'civilian identity' would be destroyed and that should I succesfully become a ward, NDAs would be signed so that anyone who knew our identities would be legally forced to keep quiet about them, with hefty fines and prison time as the consequence for failure to do so.

The masks were simple domino masks, but they would hide our identities.

Then came a very simple question: What is your power.

None of my squad stepped up to answer, instead, all five of them, yes, even Archer, looked at me.

"They are my power," I said.

One of the PRT agents, the one who was taking notes, looked up for a moment.

His partner, who was asking questions, frowned. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Simple. They... they're not parahumans. I summoned them to fight for me. That is my power," I explained.

"Huh," Questions said, blinking. "That... is actually kind of weird. I mean, they are their own people right? They seem to have wills of their own."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "I mean, I think they can't outright refuse an order from me," I said, glancing at Knight, who nodded, "so I'm pretty much a Master, I think?"

"If you are, that's a pretty damn high level master. I mean, they don't exactly look normal. Honestly, it kinda looks like an offshoot of New Wave," Questions said.

"So... I think we should kick this up the ladder. I mean, this is the sort of stuff we want more careful oversight over," Notes said, looking at Questions, who nodded.

"Yeah, normall this kind of stuff just gets compiled into a report and we email it to Armsmaster and the Director, but you're a bit of a special case and I don't actually know what to do about this," Questions said, shrugging. "It'll take a bit of a while, so please leave us your phone number. The PRT will contact you when your situation has been resolved. At this point, it's more than likely that you'll get to meet some pretty high up people right away."

I smiled and tried to contain my giddiness. "Sounds kinda cool actually."

At that point, Dad has some questions for the two PRT agents, but by then, I tuned him out and instead concentrated on the fact that I'm going to meet Armsmaster. Probably. Maybe, if I'm lucky. I mean, he's the head of the Protectorate ENE, I would meet him anyway, but still, Armsmaster! I still have a pair of panties with his logo on them!

Granted he's not Alexandria, but when the Protectorate wants to make a statement and show off their most powerful and important capes, he'd be one of the guys standing at the wings. Yeah, he's not the most prominent hero, but he achieved his position through sheer hard work, instead of an overwhelmingly powerful ability.

I've got a lot of respect for him. Also the fact that he's the local leader of the Protectorate might have something to do with it, but whatever.

This is going to be the best weekend ever.


	4. 1-4 Squire

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

1.4 Squire

We took advantage of the fact that we'd gone out and, instead of just returning home, we stopped by a few stores to buy the stuff necessary to make dinner with. Chemist confessed that she had no interest in cooking, and had never learned how, but she can follow a recipe, I'd guess. I can do the rest.

Dad would help, but dad is... Dad. He's liable to get distracted, especially with all the eyecandy that is distracting me, and I'm a straight girl to begin with. Also I kinda wanna do something nice for him since he's been so accepting and calm about this whole endeavor. More calm than I, anyway.

Admittedly, once I actually did it, holding back for an entire month on summoning did sound kinda silly - especially since it'd gone so well. Okay, so it could've resulted that I summoned some bloodthirsty lunatic, but hey, I didn't, so I've gotta make what I got count.

It seemed that they were in high spirits regardless of the pointless trip to the PRT HQ. With a bit of luck, we'd get a call from them soon and then we'd get to meet some heroes and become heroes ourselves. I know they don't care about meeting the Protectorate like I do, but well, I can't expect them to - for them, the stuff the heroes do probably isn't that big a deal, considering they're all capable of feats that would normally take parahuman powers to achieve.

As things were, though, I was excited, and I guess that's what's important.

I owe it to them, so might as well treat them to something nice. Lasagna counts as something nice, and I still remember how mom used to make it. We'd made it together more times than I can count, and while I was a dumb and ignorant child then, I have the power of google-fu to fill in the gaps of my knowledge, which makes it a whole lot easier.

Having a recipe to follow also made Chemist able to help me more directly. Contrary to what might seem like the obvious conclusion, just because she was good at mixing potions did not translate to being good in the kitchen, but it did help somewhat. Not as much here as it would if we were making stuff involving less solids and more liquids, less shaping and more mixing, but it does help.

I did need her help - I am not used to cooking for seven people. That is a lot of food, a pretty damn big lasagna. A very expensive lasagna. I think I overshot it a bit, they're all pretty slim, but it might be better to have abundant quantities and let some remain for later than make them go hungry. They're the ones who are going to be fighting out there, I need to do my part to keep them healthy and looked after when they're here.

Squire set the table, I didn't even have to ask, though I did have to give her direction, and dad was called from where he was watching TV with Archer, absent mindedly trading commentary on current world events with her as they watched a cartoon about the Triumvirate.

Monk came down from my room, and Knight came soon after. It seemed that they had been looking for a place to exercise, and my mostly empty room fit the bill. They were both covered in a light sheen of sweat, and I can tell they're gonna need a shower before bed.

...

I am an idiot.

I never thought this far, either. How and where are they going to sleep? We have a couch, but that's one Couch, and while I can see Knight and Monk roughing it, I really don't think that's going to go too well for Chemist.

As we all sat down, I decided might as well discuss the matter over dinner.

"Well, I was actually thinking of giving you guys my bed while I take the couch," Dad said. "At least for a few nights until we get the situation resolved. I'm sure the PRT would be able to get us accomodations that can help alleviate the issue. Maybe we can get them to help fund the refurbishing of the entire house," he joked.

Monk laughed. "I just need a wall to lean against, I can sleep on the ground," she offered. "The carpet here beats most of the beds I've ever slept on anyway," she said, giving dad a grin, "I wouldn't dream of kicking a man out of his bed, but I'm willing to... compromise," she said.

I frowned. "No flirting with dad when I'm within earshot," I ordered.

She pouted.

"That's final," I insisted.

She sighed. "Did you get jealous there Master? You know that you can just say the word and I'm a~ll yours!" she spoke, suddenly perking up and winking at me.

I could feel my blush.

"Drop it," Knight warned, "she's playing you," she added, looking at me. "And... if it's no problem, all I require is a chair. I can fall asleep on my feet if need be, but a chair would be more comfortable."

Archer snorted. "Miss Perfect asleep on the job?" she asked.

Knight blushed. "Guard duty is unbelievably boring," she said, turning her head to the side and disimulating her blush until she got herself back under control. "And I do agree, even relatively cheap modern day luxuries are miles ahead of what I am used to."

"Aren't you all nobles?" Dad asked, looking somewhat confused. "I'd think you guys would know luxuries beyond this house."

Dad's got a point. They're all surprisingly... humble regarding their highborn origins. "I'm curious, too. Why's that?"

"I last lived on my family's manor when I was a lass of... nine, I think, years old," Knight answered. "Since then, I have lived either in the Barracks, in a camp or on increasingly more uncomfortable allocations as war wore on and the funds allocated to our amenities were reduced. Even as a Knight of the Northern Sky, I was only afforded bare necessities."

That's... actually rather interesting. "Northern Sky?" I asked, tilting my head.

"It was the order of Knights I belonged to before," Knight said. "I wish I could say we were all virtuous and noble, but I've seen too much of my own Lord's treachery to believe myself if I said it," she admitted.

Archer snorted. "My family was never one for luxury. Father used our wealth to expand his land so he could indulge in his hobbies," she said, shrugging. "I can't complain, I shared many of them so it was fun. Still, I never had silk sheets or underthings, and I've worn more leather than cloth. I can sleep on a pile of leaves. Or socks."

I nodded. That did sound like something I'd expect from looking at her. I can't quite explain it, but she does give me the air of a hunter, more than a soldier.

Squire, however, was a bit more reluctant. "I... I can tough it out. At the Academy, we took lessons on how to survive in hostile situations," she said. Her conviction wasn't too strong, however.

I know why.

The conversation we'd been having on the way to PRT, about servants - it gave me a clue. Of all of my summons, she appears to be the one who comes from the wealthiest family. I've apparently summoned a rich nobleman's daughter or something.

"I'd rather have a bed, frankly," Chemist stated. "I've slept on rocks, but that doesn't mean I want to do it again."

I agree with her logic. It's not that she can't, it's that she'd rather not. I get what she is saying. Just because it is entirely possible, does not mean you should do it.

"I guess I can give one of you guys my bed, I can sleep on the floor and-"

Knight chuckled. "Don't be ridiculous, master," she said. "We would not be able to sleep on a bed knowing you are on the floor."

I frowned. "But you guys are going to need the rest more than I ever will," I explained, hoping she'd see reason.

"Maybe so," Monk said, "but we can take a little roughness, Master. We're soldiers, we're used to it," she said. "You're not. We can deal with a little stiffness in the morning."

I think I must have set a record for the strength of my frown. "That's not right," I said. "I'm your Master, I'm supposed to be looking after you, so-"

Knight smiled at me, and for some reason that got me to stop. I can tell she has something to say. "Master," she began, "while I am glad that you would show us such kindness, even accepting us into our home and giving us the utmost comfort you can provide," she continued, approval in her voice, "please do trust us when we say that we can deal with this."

"But it feels like I'm a bad master. This is the only thing I can do for you, since I can't fight at your side," I muttered, stabbing my portion of lasagna with a fork. What remains of it anyway.

"A bad master?" Chemist asked, seemingly surprised.

"Ah, no, Master is very good," Squire said, "certainly better than the Knight Captain that lead the academy squad. Sometimes he wouldn't even let us sleep."

Monk looked directly at me. "Master, stop blaming yourself for your inadequacies. At least Squire got the point about seeking self improvement instead of self recrimination. Mostly."

Squire nodded, looking pleased. snorted. "Besides, if we're talking about bad masters, we could talk about the Captain I served when I was in the Northern Sky," she muttered.

"You... were a Knight, as well?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. I am, and was, an Archer, but I did serve in their order for a while," she said, looking proud of that fact. "Not a bad gig, I got out before the Lion War got rolling."

"You... were discharged?" Knight asked, carefully.

"No, I deserted. Like I said, the Captain was an asshole," Archer explained.

Knight looked upset. Looking at Archer, she gripped her knife a bit more tightly. "You deserted," she muttered.

"What, you're gonna judge me for it?" she challenged.

"No. Fighting," I ordered. "What do you mean deserted?" I asked, looking at Archer.

"What I said," she said. "Woke up one day, stuck an arrow in the Captain's eyesocket and then left. By the time they noticed I was gone and the Captain was dead, I was long gone and they couldn't spare an unit to chase me."

I wondered how I'm supposed to react. After all, I should try resolving the issue, right? It's the right thing to do, to help her, and also because the team's chemistry can be affected. In a way, I'm kind of glad this got out early so we can get it out of the way now, instead of letting it fester and become way more problematic later, when it might even be seen as an outright betrayal. "... Do you want to tell me the reason why?" I asked.

The last thing I want is to piss her off and have her become resentful, by forcing her to expose her secrets. Much as I would like to just have her come clean and solve the issue right now, it might bring more harm than good.

"Not particularly, no," she said, sounding indifferent.

"Do you at least think it's a compelling enough reason that it would get Knight to at least consider hearing you out?" I asked, now that I know that there is a reason, and it's probably something heavy given her unwillingness to mention it.

"Miss Righteous Bitch? No," she said, "I don't think anything will get her to back off," she said.

"Will this be a problem?" I asked, turning to face Knight, who shook her head.

"No," she admitted. "The fact that she is here means she accepts serving you of her own free will, and your control over us prevents her from rebellion or subversion. I cannot say I am comfortable working with a deserter, but I know I can trust her, if only because I can trust you, Master."

I blushed at her praise. I'm not that trustworthy, at least, not as much as she seems to imply she is. "Uhm, ah, thank you," I muttered.

I could feel a hand on my shoulder. I squeaked, not proud about that by the way, and looked up, seeing dad eyeing me. He almost towers behind me, as I look over my shoulder, kind of a cool image to have. What? I like my dad. "I'm not gonna sit here and claim to be the most knowledgeable person or even an expert in human resources," he admitted, "but I think I can give you a hand or two. Especially since we've got a few advantages with your power over them," he added, winking at me. "I'll have to give you some pointers on how to manage workers that don't quite get along sooner rather than later. For now, try to find out if there'll be anything else that would harm team dynamics."

"I don't think there's anything," Monk said. "I've got no problem working with Archer. At least she's not a turncoat."

Chemist smiled. "Same here. Can't be worse than working with foreign mercenaries."

Squire seemed a bit unsure. "I... I'll trust Miss Knight's judgment, and I'll trust Master," she explained, giving us a bright smile, almost as if she had chosen not to worry about it. Lucky girl.

When the wheel spun to Archer, metaphorically speaking, she scoffed. "I'm a sniper, I work support, so she's going to have to trust me to watch her back."

"And that's the issue, isn't it?" Knight asked. "Much as I know you've betrayed your country, you would not be here if you were incapable of loyalty. I know you would not stick an arrow to my back," she said, sounding somewhat smug for a moment, "which means that there must've been a very compelling reason for you to assault your captain and desert. I'll know what that is, some day, but for now, I know that you are all bark and no bite, regarding betrayal."

I could see Archer's eyes narrow.

"Oh?" she asked. "And what could be a reason you would accept as sufficient?"

"We'll see," Knight said. "I won't voice my suspicions or conclusions, you'll reveal what you want when you want to, but I know that you think that what you did was justified, and I know that it could not have been a light decision to make, so until then... Do as you must, I know that if nothing else, I can trust Master."

There was a palpable tension in the room. I almost expected them to come to blows.

"So... who's up for dessert?" dad asked.

We have something for dessert!?


	5. 1-5 Squire

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

1.5 Squire

I had to go to school.

This... is a pain in the ass. Honestly, nothing much is different about school, even after I got shoved into a locker filled with rotting filth. You'd think that the fact that I very nearly died would've gotten them to back off, if only because people would be paying a bit more attention to me.

But that, for obvious reasons, was not the case.

And when Knight learned that I intended to go back to school and let them keep bullying me, she did not take it as well as I had hoped.

Then again, even Squire had put her foot down and protested against me going, leaving them all stuck at home minding the phone waiting for the PRT to call while I instead took more of the daily punishment at school. There was only so much they could do, and while Monk did bring up the possibility of just using them to beat the crap out of my bullies, I could not condone the use of my power in that way. Well, technically it was their strength, but I know that it would have happened because of me, so I vetoed that idea.

I also vetoed the idea of just not going.

I'm not letting those bitches win.

"I've got a solution," Archer said, simply. "I'll just go with her to school."

I'm not exactly sure that anyone took that seriously. "That's ridiculous," I said.

"It's the dumbest, simplest and most straightforward plan that doesn't infringe on your moral code," Archer said. "And there was this kid I knew, he worked mostly like that. I've found that the simpler a plan is, the more likely it is to work," she added.

Knight frowned. "Frontal assaults do tend to work... with catastrophic consequences," she muttered. "I'll still take it over you going to school without protection. I'd go, myself, but I cannot pass for a teenager."

Chemist nodded. She was shorter than Monk or Knight, true, but... well, I can't explain it well, the closest I can say is that she looks like a mature adult, not a young girl pretending to be adult, as you'd so often find.

For all that she was far better developed than I am, I cannot deny that Archer can actually pass as being close to my age. She looks like a young girl, mostly.

Squire would be best. Again, overdeveloped, a bit, but still passing for a young girl, and could even sneak into my classes.

I know for a fact that Winslow doesn't do roll calls, ever, and doesn't really pay enough attention to the students to notice that there's one more. Or less. It's a very, very problematic institution.

The problem was if you made noise, per se, and Squire would make a lot of 'noise', simply because I really can't see her controlling her temperament well enough to pass as a high schooler. She'd give away the gaps in her knowledge too quickly.

It would have to be.

Archer put on some of my clothes, once more, and we both took the bus to school. I think someone might have attempted to grope her, since I swear I saw her stomp on someone's foot, but that could've been someone who didn't understand personal space needs to be respected even in a tightly packed bus.

Winslow is the same as ever. It's a rotten den of scum and villainy, and it's half broken down, half painted and half staffed. Wonderful and lovely, that's my school for sure.

I can't wait to get into the Wards so I can go to Arcadia instead.

Soon enough, we're inside. As I expected, people noticed Archer's presence, but didn't really make a fuzz of it. She drew looks for sure, but nobody thought it odd that a girl they didn't know, yet another one, was walking around.

It wouldn't be too long that we had to separate, as I could not walk into class with a girl several years my senior and not raise suspicion. Fortunately, even though some of the Bitch Trio's minions are around, they're not paying much attention to me, focusing on the teacher instead. Good enough for me, even if I have to deal with them just so happening to bump into me and my desk when they pass by for whatever reason.

I wondered what Archer was doing, as I got bored by the class. Daydreaming will probably be more amusing.

What could she possibly be doing, out there, alone?

Possibilities began to fill my mind. She had stayed outside the classroom, sitting down against the wall, bored out of her skull, but used to watches like this. I can't imagine that she likes just standing there and waiting. She'd probably feel a little better if she stretched a bit.

Yeah, she'd probably go for a walk. No need to wait outside the classroom for a full hour and a half more than she had already, so might as well just go check out the school. She would walk around, observing all the new things from a time not her own. I can already picture her wondering what the purpose of an institution like Winslow could be. Clearly, education wasn't it, if they let it get this rundown.

I can imagine that in her time, education was something very highly prized - to the point that people who were educated were incredibly valuable just for that alone.

Maybe she'd come across something interesting. Maybe in her walk she could wander into the middle of a fight between some Merchant kids, one of them with several colored armbands, and some Empire kids. And they were kids - around 15-16, my age, and I get called 'Kiddo' often enough - so they would probably be doing something really stupid like getting into fistfights in the middle of the hall.

Probably.

Archer might've been unarmed, but she was still strong and fast, much stronger and much faster than your average human being, in fact. Even if she wasn't in excellent physical shape, she would still be much stronger than any of those punks.

But Taylor knew that Archer wouldn't jump into that fight, especially when it was racists versus druggies.

That would be, of course, only until one of the Merchants thought her Empire simply because she was blonde and fair skinned. I don't imagine her caring very much for the accusation. Hell, I can only hope that she is not incredibly racist herself - she's an European noble from a time before there even were Black People in Europe, it's likely she doesn't even know a single black person. Well, two of the merchants would likely be black.

And they'd call her white trash or something, because what is a dumb teenager if not a hypocrite?

Naturally, she would not care, until they attacked her. Maybe one of them would assume that Archer was one of the empire mooks' 'girl'. The very idea would be ridiculous, of course. Archer doesn't seem the kind who would be anyone's 'girl'. The impression I get of her is one closer to that of Atalanta, the Huntress from Greek Myth, disciple of Artemis. If any man wished to bed her, he must best her first. I think that was in a movie too. Something Sonja, I think. Some movies I wish had stayed in Aleph.

One of the Merchant, let's call him Big Bad Black, would then lunge for her and grab her by the shoulders, asking the Empire kids what now, that they had a hostage.

While the Empire wouldn't recognize her as one of their own, she was a pretty white girl, and that made them hesitate.

Archer would find the whole thing entertaining and instead of being intimidated would grab one of Big Bad Black's hands and calmly force it away from her. He would be surprised by her strength, belied by her slim frame, would attempt to do it again and then she would use the Archer's tried and true method of dealing with close ranged opponents.

Kick them in the nuts and put some distance between you and them.

Archer would be far enough away that the Empire kids, now with the numerical advantage, would overwhelm the merchants.

Archer would then walk off. She was no hero, she was not the one who was out for justice. However, then she would remember how her mistress didn't like the idea of leaving people in dangerous situations like that, sigh angrily and turn around, wishing she could just pull her bow out and pelt them with arrows. Unfortunately, her longbow was longer than she was tall and would call a lot of attention towards her.

So she would make do with a much simpler projectile weapon. I had paperclips and elastic bands at home, and she was more than creative enough to create a basic, simplistic slingshot with them. Apparently, while she had a mastery of bows and crossbows, and only bows and crossbows, as an innate power, it didn't prevent her from learning how to handle other forms of ranged weaponry. Her eyesight was perfect, her eye-hand coordination excellent and she had an innate ability to track targets in such a way as to guess their next move. Her eyes were the product of an overeager chemist healing the bad eyesight she'd been born with, but everything else was learned.

So it would be pathetically easy for her to use her makeshift slingshot and a few balls of paper as a ranged weapon.

I knew how her powers worked, so it was not too difficult for me to visualize her putting some distance between herself and them, enough to let herself Charge. I could almost hear the elastic band protesting as she drew it back and let loose a ball of paper that struck one of the empire kids on his right temple and knocked him out.

By the time the others figured what was going on, she had already knocked out two others, one Merchant and one Empire, leaving four people awake. The Merchants seemed to just get angrier, and the Empire didn't know what was going on, so they got on each other's way, and she simply picked them off, and only when the last one remained would he get the right idea, but it was too late.

Even as he would reach her, she would be ready, hitting his forehead with a paper ball just as overpowered as the last ones, causing him to hit the ground unconscious right next to her.

Archer would then smile to herself, praise herself for having the idea to have plenty of ammunition, and then continue with her trip around the school, passing by my locker to take a few more sheets of paper to make into tightly wound paper balls for use with her slingshot, then begin the trek back to the classroom.

Hm... As I abandoned my daydream, I wondered just how powerful Archer's Charge ability really was.

I understand that she can do some pretty impressive things with it. It reminds me of the superhero Battery's power. She could stand still and charge up, and when she moved again she'd be super fast and much stronger. But instead of charging herself up, Archer charges an attack, and lets it loose with massive amounts of power. She starts doubling it, and then goes up to twenty times as strong. Well, that's how much it's safe to do. Anything more and she risks backlash.

Not a good thing when you're unleashing that much firepower in one shot.

She hadn't hit these guys too hard, I could tell, but it'd still required quite a bit of charge for each shot, considering that she was hitting them with rolled up paper from a fair distance away while wielding a rubber band and paperclip slingshot.

I think I need to get her an easily concealable weapon. There's that heroine, Shadow Stalker, who runs around with crossbows. Maybe they can be made portable and concealable? Are collapsible crossbows a thing? I know that Archer prefers her longbow, but that's clearly a weapon that requires some preparation to use.

Then again, she can climb places, and with a longbow, she can probably hit a fair radius from a high place. I kind of want to know how far she could hit from the Medhall tower. Might be able to hit most of the city if she charges up. I'm not sure how good her eyesight is, though, so I'm not sure on her aim from too high up.

It'd have to wait. Class was about to end, and she would probably be way bored after having spent an hour doing nothing.

She was, indeed, waiting where I expected her to be. However, it seemed that somebody had given her some gum while I was gone, as she was making a very big, very pink bubblegum bubble. I resisted my urge to poke it, if it explodes it might get on her face and hair and that would suck. "Hi," I said, blinking at the sight. "Having fun?"

"Some," she admitted. "This is more entertaining than I thought it'd be," she admitted. "Plenty of people to talk to who're ditching class."

I raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah," she said. "What I find weird is that there's nobody who's been questioning my presence, it's almost like they don't even care," Archer said. "You were right."

Of course I was.

"Well, I'm sorry you had to wait here and be bored, but, well, it's school so-"

She shook her head. "Whatever. If I'd stayed at your house, I would have to deal with Knight's bitching, so it's better."

Oh, so there was an ulterior motive after all. Well, I don't mind - I don't want her and Knight fighting, and some time to cool off tensions might be for the best. I know Knight means well, and her distrust is probably because as a, well, knight, the idea of betraying her lord and master is probably tantamount to blasphemy. Given how religious people in the middle ages tended to be, that means a lot.

"It's okay, I guess," I said. "But you'll really need to talk with her at some point. It's all well and good that you can work together without friction," I explained, raising a hand to forestall her protests, "but I want you guys to get along."

She grimaced. "You do," she said, "but it's not that easy."

"Of course it isn't," I'm not that naive, "but it won't happen unless you try."

"If it'll get you off my back about it," she compromised, "I'll bring it up myself, when I'm ready. Just tell her to back off."

My smile was probably wide enough to split my face. I already have too-wide lips to begin with. "That's all I ask for," I said. "And... I'm sorry if I'm forcing you, it's just that I-"

She raised a hand. "Just... just stop," she said. "Besides, we've got company."

"Well hello there, Taylor."

Who else could it be? No day was complete without the bitch trio showing up out of nowhere to ruin it.

"And who is this? A new face. I don't think I've met you before, but still, you should know not to hang out with Hebert," she said, "she's so clumsy, she might end up covering you in juice or something!"

Really, that's her. That's my former best friend. It's not so much that she's witty, it's that she never stops. It's long since passed from hurtful to annoying, and she needs to really surpass herself to actually hurt me those days. Unfortunately, she's very willing to try.

"Well, I can't imagine she's good company anyway," the petite brunette, Madison Clements, said. I'm... actually surprised she spoke up like that. Usually, she lets Emma do the talking with new people.

Archer looked at them like they were something she'd scrape off her shoe. "These are your bullies?" she asked. "Seriously? These are the same people who shoved you into that locker?"

She seemed incredulous. "Yeah."

"Well, I can guess why they did it, at least, if this is the extent of their wit," she spoke. "Also wasn't there a third one you spoke of?"

"Sophia," I said. "Yeah, she's the one who gets physical. Probably because Emma's afraid she might break a nail, and I'm not sure Madison could move a folding chair let alone a human body."

"Hey!" Madison protested.

"I'm just not willing to get your filth on me," Emma countered. "You smell just as bad as you look."

"Well, that's better at least," Archer said. "But really, if you want to insult someone, you should really go for what they, evidently, care about. You're insulting my master about her smell. She is not using perfume, she is using simple deodorant. Meanwhile, both of you are bathed in perfume. You know what it's used for? To mask the bad smell of people who don't shower," she said. "So the evidence points to you being the ones who smell, and are covering it up," she said.

They seemed scandalized at their own accusations being turned around.

"And that's not even the worst of it. Her appearance? Really? Now, I'm not an expert in modern fashion, but if she was that conscious about it, she'd probably exercise and take good care of herself. Again, that is something that you, not her, do. You're not comfortable in your own body, so you try to better and improve it, because you feel like you're not good enough for the world around you. You feel like the boys just don't pay enough attention to you, am I right?"

Wow, way to defend me, Archer. Do you even care?

Madison sputtered, but Emma seemed to think she had the upper hand. "You say that, but you look like you came straight out of the gym-"

"That's because I like physical activity. My body is a byproduct, not the objective," Archer countered, cutting her off. "Now, and this is important, if you really want to hurt someone, you need to go for their weakpoints. In this case, I could go with the fact that you," she said, pointing at Emma, "have never had a boyfriend. Given your obsession with her," she said, pointing back at me, "I can surmise that not only are you a lesbian, but you, in fact, are crushing on her," she added, gesturing back and forth, "but are so ashamed and in denial about it that you torture her simply to attempt to convince yourself that you hate her because you think you're a freak."

"W-What!? Where did that even come from!?" Emma shouted, red faced. "Don't you- you're making shit up!"

"I'm deducing from present evidence," Archer corrected. "And what I know from Taylor," she, unlike Knight, did not seek permission or forgiveness for using my name. I'm not sure I like the implication, but I like that she at least doesn't use it as an insult. "And what I know from her paints me the picture of a little girl who was convinced by a new friend that her lesbian crush was bad and wrong and she should get rid of it."

"That's not true!" Emma shouted. Her face was nearly glowing by now.

I caught on to Archer's game, by now, and I needed to play along. "Holy crap, really?" I said, faking a wide eyed stare. "Uhm... Emma, I'm flattered and all, but I like boys, I'm sorry," I said. "Wait no, I'm not."

"And as for you," Archer said, turning to Madison. "... You're barely worth the time I would spend observing you. You're basically nothing but a follower. You're so terrified of the possibility of your so called 'friend' turning on you that you've become nothing but a yes-man. Yes-girl. Whatever. Also you're now thinking that the idea of Emma doing all of what she does because of a crush both makes too much sense and is too stupid to not be true."

"Sh-shut up!" Emma protested. "I am not crushing on Taylor, I do not like girls, I like boys - and - and- I'll prove it!"

"Well, fine," Archer said. "If you want to prove it, go into the boys' showers and fellate them. All of them." Then she seemed to look at Emma, who was a bit confused. Oh. She... doesn't know what Fellatio means. "Means sucking their dicks. That'll prove you're heterosexual," Archer said, rolling her eyes. "But you won't though. In fact, you'd probably like going into the girls' showers instead, wouldn't you?"

Emma squeaked as Archer advanced on her.

"Yeah, you can imagine it right now, can't you? Their slim, slender bodies, water flowing down long, silky tresses, all soft and smooth skin. Just picture it on your mind's eye, the drop of water running down her back, down the modest curves of her bottom, and you being right there to see it all, seeing them bare it all. Long, long legs, leading up to a slim body and a perfect pair of perky-"

"Stop!" I nearly squeaked, myself, blushing bright crimson.

Emma was in a way worse state, and Madison, of all people, was actually laughing.

Archer laughed. "Oh, I haven't had that much fun in a while," she said, taking a step back. "I think you said you had to get to class?" she said, turning to me.

I had to keep reminding myself that I'm straight as I walked to class, no matter how good Archer's ass looks in my pants. Then again, soon enough, we passed some of the older members of the track team, Sophia curiously absent, and it wasn't that hard to remind myself that yeah, I like a boys.

Because they were chasing one guy who was apparently being hazed, as he was forced to run naked through the halls and I mean _damn._

I think I get why Sophia likes track so much.


	6. 1-6 Squire

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

1.6 Squire

It wouldn't be that day that we would get the fabled call from the PRT.

So I went to school the next day.

Today was Worldly Affairs, or, in normal person terms, let's screw and bullshit around for an hour, or two if you have it double, while Gladly pretends he's a teacher. Well, that's what it's like to me. Anyway, Worldly Affairs was first for me, and Archer insisted on walking me to class.

She seemed disappointed when we were not approached by the Bitch Trio so she could try to lay the verbal smackdown on them again. She'd apparently spent some time thinking up barbs from them.

Speaking about night time, I really hope the PRT gets off their ass and calls us soon. I'm not sure dad can manage the situation much longer, and while we still have some hush money that the school gave us, I'd really rather not spend it so soon. But it might not be a choice if things continue like this - we're already dipping into it to pay for my troops' meals.

My troops. That's a rather odd thing to say, and I've had them for days already. It's... honestly kind of amazing how easy it was to settle with the new status quo. Dad was apparently either in massive denial about how weird the situation was, or too busy to really be at home often enough for it to be problematic. Sleeping arrangements have become a bit more manageable.

Knight suggested sleeping on shifts, as if they were doing watch, and most agreed. Archer had ultimately moved to the roof, when there was no rain to make it impossible. Apparently she liked having a view of outside.

I dreamed a lot that night. A lot about what every one of my troops was doing, as I slept. I could see Knight, her watch being the first, using a rag and steel polish to clean her large sword. It really was enormous, certainly didn't look like it could be wielded in one hand, but it was probably designed for someone as strong as Knight.

I dreamed that she had a conversation with Dad. I knew it was dumb, dad went to sleep earlier than I did, since he was up earlier and was usually too tired to hang onto consciousness for all day.

Then again, what could they possibly talk about? Dad would probably get really overprotective. I can imagine him going as far as to actually offend Knight with his words and implications. He'd probably think that Knight's intentions aren't pure, that she's not really as loyal as she says she is.

I can already imagine him, being his usual defeatist self, claiming that while he couldn't say he was a good father, he'd at least try to protect me in what ways he could, looking weaker and frailer than I'd ever see him, because he was always trying to pretend to be strong for me.

He couldn't always manage it. He usually didn't. I know that he broke when mom died. More than I did. It hurt, it hurt immensely, and I always knew, just knew, that it was my fault, that I was being an idiot that night and if I hadn't, she wouldn't have died.

But even the guilt I felt didn't compare to dad, who had hated himself for a very long time, and I think I know why - I'm fairly sure it's because his last words to mom were angry, and he never told her that he loved her before she died.

Despite how much he would offend her, Knight would be understanding and patient. Not because she particularly cared for him, I realize, but because she would see being anything but kind to my father as a betrayal to me.

I'm not sure if the real Knight would be like this. But in my dream, I could picture her like this. She was a person who had nothing but cold and indifference to the world, and who existed only for her duty. That duty being, at the moment, to serve me. I don't know if Knight is anything like this, I don't think I want to know, but it really gives me an idea of the enormity of the situation.

I'm just me, useless Taylor, and I know that she is more, that she is much greater than I am, yet will still bend her knee and follow me until the need arises for her life to end, which she would greatly prefer to be a sacrifice in my favor.

That kind of loyalty, I can't even comprehend it. I've only got the barest idea in my head, that someone could be loyal to the extent of being willing to kill and die for another.

Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to understand if it weren't for... you know.

It might've been a bit boring, but I also dreamed of the other troops, in turn. I dreamed of what their 'watch' was like. Chemist was no soldier, so she relied on coffee to keep herself up. Meanwhile, Squire would stand ramrod straight next to the door that separated my room from the rest of the house. Despite her inexperience, she was still a trained soldier and if there's one thing they know how to do is stand in place.

Monk, meanwhile, would just sit on the couch and watch TV, though soon enough boredom would lead to her stretching into weird poses, just to keep herself from becoming stiff as a corpse.

The last was Archer, who I can see, as a hunter, having a particularly weird sleeping cycle, waking up all bright and bushy tailed, ready to face the day, and then carefully schooling herself into curbing that enthusiasm because everyone knows that hoping too much gets you smacked down by reality. She'd be content with getting some amusement if possible.

Morning had been subdued. Dad drank the last bit of coffee and looked somewhat disgruntled, but left without a word.

I slept like a baby. Really. It's weird, I usually don't, but it's nice. But it still didn't mean the day was off to a good start because, you know, school and all.

Worldly Affairs went by without much incident. One of Madison's friends emptied a pencil sharpner over my bag, but eh, it's pretty much nothing compared to getting bathed in fruit juice and having to deal with the stickiness all day. Or Sophia tripping me down the stairs.

You know that saying, Speak of the Devil etcetera?

Well, there she was, Sophia Hess in all of her glory, with an angry looking Emma behind her. Soon enough, as students trickled out of the classroom, Madison joined them, and a crowd formed around them and Archer, who was looking quite smug, while her quarry looked very angry.

She seemed confident and ready, so I decided not to intervene, not that I could do anything she couldn't do to them, but still, I want to at least support her a bit.

"So you brought your new girlfriend with you this time," Archer said. "Does she know that you really like those tight running shorts she wears?"

"You must be the idiot white knighting for Hebert," Sophia said. "You must think you're such a hero."

"Who, me?" Archer said, laughing a bit. "No, I'm no hero," she said. "I'm more of an opportunist, I see a weakness and I exploit it, as I'm sure you know," she said.

"Then I'm surprised you're sticking up for the worm," Sophia admitted. "You've got a spine, unlike her, so why are you wasting your time?"

"The difference between you and me?" she asked, "I chose the girl who, having just as much ammunition on her former best friend as her former best friend has on her, chose to keep it to herself. You know, the girl less likely to stab me in the back and use anything and everything I tell her against me."

Sophia's eyes narrowed. "I see your point," she said. "But Hebert wasn't worth the time, so-"

"Isn't she?" Archer asked. "I mean, here we are, discussing her," she said, "and I wasn't the one to bring her up. Are you also attracted to her? Wow, I didn't take Taylor to be such a magnetic personality," she said, laughing a bit to herself.

"Yeah, yeah, I already knew you'd go that way," Sophia said. "Getting angry or flustered would only give you more ammunition to use, so I'm not doing that," she added.

"And for the last time, I am not a lesbian," Emma said petulantly.

Archer laughed. "Aren't you? Aren't you really?" she asked, stepping forwards.

Sophia tensed.

Emma tensed.

But Archer walked up to her, put her hand under Emma's chin and pulled her up slightly, putting their faces very closer together. Their lips were only an inch apart.

I could see Emma's breath hitching. I can see her face flush.

And then, of all things, I could see goddamn Sophia Hess laughing about it. Admittedly, I'm laughing too.

"Well, Ems, she's got you there," Sophia said. "Besides, you know nobody minds. Nobody has given a shit since legend."

"I'm not a lesbian!" Emma insisted, but she hadn't moved from her position, and her protest rang hollow, even as Archer pulled back.

"There's nothing wrong with enjoying a little bit of both either," Archer said. "Live life a little, girl - you never know when some madman might end it, so might as well give up those stupid hangups and just let yourself be."

"Goddamn, I think I like you," Sophia said. "A shame you chose to stick up for Hebert. You really shouldn't waste your time with her. You're much better, much greater, so-"

"Why, exactly, do you think Taylor is so weak?" Archer asked, point blank.

"Just look at her," Sophia replied. "She's meek, she never speaks up - Emma used to be so sure that one day she'd step up and finally show some goddamn spine, but she just never did. It's honestly disappointing."

"This is probably not a discussion we should have in public," Emma spoke.

"Shut up sweetie, the adults are talking now," Archer said, with a level of condescencion I had never thought possible before.

"Savage," Sophia said. "But you've got an argument for yourself. I'm curious - I'm always willing to listen to the word of a fellow," she said.

What.

Sophia fucking Hess considers Archer a like minded individual? Archer, my fucking summon, is a like minded individual to Sophia fucking Hess?

"I'm a hunter," Archer said.

"Interesting," Sophia admitted. "I see myself as more of a beast of prey, personally. You disagree?"

"No, I see it," Archer admitted, nodding. "But as I am a hunter, I can tell that Taylor possesses the same qualities that my father praised in me."

"Your father trained you to hunt?" Sophia asked, somewhat surprised.

"Dad wanted a boy. Got six daughters instead. Decided to fuck it and brought us up like he would've done his heir anyway," Archer said, shrugging. "You'd think he'd have gotten the point by the fifth child and third wife, but nobody said dad was smart."

Sophia chuckled. "Sounds like an interesting life. Still, you had a point about Hebert, and I'm curious."

"Oh, that one's simple. You think she's weak. I think the opposite. I think you're missing the forest for the trees."

Sophia leaned back a bit. "How so?"

"You think her lack of retaliation makes her weak," Archer explained. "I think the fact that she is mostly intact shows resilience. I think that the fact that she has not retaliated yet shows her patience. A proper hunter can endure significant punishment and await for just the right time to strike."

"You think she's preparing for some sort of payback?" Sophia asked.

"No, but I do think she would take the chance if it came up," she said. "Of course, it'd be all too easy to have me do it. You might be a predator, Sophia, but I've felled bigger beasts than you."

"Boastful," Sophia stated.

" _I can see the crossbow's scars on your hand_ ," Archer said, smiling brightly.

Sophia's eyes widened. "So what if I practice shooting? It's only natural that I seek some form of stress relief."

"Personally, I prefer the longbow," Archer stated.

Are you TRYING to out yourself here!? Besides, what the hell was she talking about, crossbow scars on her hand? I can barely see slightly irregular patches of skin, but then again, I'm not the archer with super eyesight.

"If it'll make my point clear, would you consent to a marksman's challenge? You versus me. I'll even make it easy on you, we'll do crossbows."

Sophia laughed. "It would be fun, I admit," she said. "But I'm surprised someone like you would be on Hebert's side. If nothing else, her running to you would prove her weak, don't you agree?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Archer said. "Charisma can be its own kind of strength."

"Interesting," Sophia said. "I can't say that talking with you hasn't been more... enlightening than I expected," Sophia admitted. "Still, name a place and day, and I'll prove who the better marksman is, any day."

"Don't worry, I'll get in contact with you," Archer said, winking at her, then turning to me. "And as for you, I know for a fact you've got a class five minutes ago, so get there," she said.

There was no more discussion in the hall.

I didn't do or say anything.

Because I just saw something, and it filled my head with fuck, I need to untangle it before I know how to proceed.


	7. 1-X Bow Cross Bow

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

1.X Bow Cross Bow

Sophia had almost settled for the night. While she was usually gung ho about patrolling, even without support or authorization for that matter, she also knew that she couldn't just go on forever.

The day was a bit chilling, so she went to close the window she'd climbed to get in to begin with, after a short run across the rooftops just to get in shape, when all of a sudden, something went through the window.

It was fast, and it hit the wall opposite the window, getting stuck on it. Sophia knew instantly what it was.

It was an arrow.

It had a piece of paper tied to it, and she knew immediately who it was from. "So Hebert's guard dog knows where I live," Sophia said, frowning.

She would never admit it, but the situation was starting to instill fear in her. This was not good, in the least.

Pulling the arrow off her wall, she removed the letter and began to read it.

 _Dear Shadowstalker:_

 _Yes, I saw you at the house last night. I'm a hunter, I track things._

 _Fortunately, my master knew a place we could meet up tomorrow,_

 _Boat Graveyard, One One Hundred, Eleven PM. Bring your best bow._

 _You're lucky my master doesn't like us killing people._

 _I would much prefer a proper duel between snipers. Unfortunately,_

 _I am told that people frown upon those in this day and age. I am_

 _looking forward to our duel nonetheless._

 _Do not disappoint me._

Sophia frowned. She had signed it, as well.

 _Archer, 1st Squad, 1st Division, Knights of the Northern Sky, under Knight-Commander Balbanes Beoulve_

That last part confused her. She knew they had a theme going on, but that was a bit surprising, to say the least. The PRT had people monitoring the situation to possibly discern if they were mastered capes or actual entities summoned by the worm.

Sophia herself had been leaning towards Hebert having Mastered them, instead of summoning them. It figured either way, Hebert was too weak to fight her own battles and even whatever it was that decided who got what powers recognized it. Meeting that Archer woman had left her feeling quite pleased - if nothing else, she'd have a worthy opponent, at the very least.

Admittedly, it was an opponent much more worthy than she was used to. A hunter, she had said. Apparently she had done so intentionally. She had also been able to recognize that she was Shadow Stalker, and made the fact clear at school. She had also made it clear that she didn't care for the rules, and would out Sophia right then and there if she didn't play ball.

Not that she needed much convincing - this girl... no, this woman, was a predator.

But still, that last bit... That spoke of a past that did not mesh with what Sophia could expect. She did have the looks of a noble, but she spoke of belonging to a military, a military she had never heard of. Knights of the Northern Sky? She'd have to look them up, see if she found anything. She'd pass it along to the PRT's think tank, do her duty.

Maybe it was even a cry for help.

Hah, as if. That woman was not being mastered, Sophia knew well. Hebert's will could never force hers to submit. She'd even been friendly to Sophia in front of Hebert's face - she knew the worm's head would explode before she allowed that.

She'd wait until tomorrow. She would even make it a point to clear her schedule of potential complications, even if she had to uncharacteristically beg off a patrol. She knew she'd probably be watched, but she could always use Emma as an excuse.

* * *

Sophia touched down, she was already fully dressed. As expected, the PRT'd had questions. She deflected, said she had to help Emma with a bad date. They accepted the excuse.

And now she was in front of the only other predator that had escaped the leash of false civility, who held a simple small crossbow in her hands, made of wood and colored as such.

Sophia's own professionally designed, perfectly constructed crossbow simply lacked the charm of the old-seeming model, particularly because Sophia could tell that her opponent's weapon was handmade and especially crafted for her.

"First lesson," Archer began. "A true Hunter trusts only the tools that he knows intimately," she said. "I trust my bow. Do you trust yours?" she asked.

Sophia took a deep breath. "No, I don't," she admitted. "It's not my bow. It's a bow forced upon me. It's a good bow," she said.

"But it's not your bow," Archer said, "It's worthless."

Sophia nodded. She truly had no confidence in this weapon, created solely to fire nonlethal weaponry that tended to bounce off tougher foes, and was useless against the smallest bit of armor. Like a leather jacket. "It's what I've got."

"Make your own," Archer said. "You have the means."

"You called me here. Speak," Sophia said.

"Impatient, aren't we?" Archer said, giving her a rather smug smirk. "What do you think I called you here for?"

"To fight," Sophia said, simply. "To duel. Sniper to Sniper. You said as much."

"I said Master doesn't like killing," Archer said. "We'll be Marksmen for the night," she said.

Sophia's eyes narrowed almost perceptibly, but her mask was a good one.

Archer smiled and reached behind herself. Sophia realized a simple pack and quiver rested behind her back. She pulled out an apple. Then she tossed it into the air.

When it fell to the ground, Sophia had already struck it with a bolt, though it did not pierce all the way through. It was empty, so she didn't waste any tranquilizer. It was an old, used bolt she had retrieved but never refilled.

"One point seventy three, not bad," Archer said, before digging into her pack and pulling out another apple, this one noticeably smaller. She also showed Sophia the timer on her other hand, behind her bow's handle. She tossed first the apple, and then the timer. "Take care of that, it belongs to master's dad and she'll get pissy if he gets pissy."

Sophia snorted. Putting up with Hebert all day couldn't be fun.

She got ready with both timer and apple, momentarily putting her bow away, clasping it to her belt. She tossed it into the air and pressed the timer.

The apple hit the ground. It'd been stabbed by three bolts, as it had three entry and exit holes. The bolts themselves were stabbed in the hull of the boat behind Sophia. One, had it been just an inch to the right, would've gone through her eyesocket and out the back of her skull. She didn't even flinch when she felt it whiz by.

"Oh point five six, oh point eight nine, one point oh two," Sophia remarked. "Amazing."

She was not using a repeater crossbow. She had fired, and reloaded, three times in under a second.

"If I had a bow," Archer noted, pausing as Sophia tossed the timer back to her, "I wouldn't have given so pitiful a showing," Archer admitted. "You have potential, but you're letting yourself be caged by your own perceptions and precepts. You've got the makings of a hunter, Shadowstalker. You might be a fox amongst rabbits, but to a hunter, you're just differently colored prey," she added.

"So that crap you spoke about Hebert?" Sophia said, growling. "You said she had the makings of a hunter, as well."

"She has traits desirable in a hunter," Archer said, evenly. "But she is too much of a Knight to ever be anything else."

Sophia snorted. "It'd explain why she never did anything," she admitted. "Too much of a goody two shoes to break the rules and punch my nose in, then?"

Archer laughed. "Not as such, no," she said. "You think of a Knight as one who follows the rules unconditionally. My lord, right or wrong," she said, though her voice had taken on a snottish, parodying quality. "I've met the type. No, I refer to a true Knight. Taylor reminds me of a man I once knew, a man who inspired me to walk into the jaws of death itself, the man I gave my life for when I drew my last breath."

Sophia laughed. "Sounds like a great guy," she admitted. "But I can't see someone feeling like that for Hebert, ever. This man had a creed?" she asked.

"Just a simple one," Archer said. "Never tolerate injustice and live true to your heart," she said.

"Hm. Simple, yeah," Sophia admitted. "I like it, though."

"So did we all," Archer admitted.

"You look young," Sophia said. "But you don't feel like you're my age. Or even close, really. I feel like I'm standing in front of an old and tired woman."

"I am seventeen years old," Archer said, giving her a smug smirk. "I've been seventeen years old for fifty three years now, I think," she admitted, before turning around. "I've been to many battles. That man gave me a purpose, and I've been fulfilling it since. It took me a very long time to discover my purpose, but it liberated me, made me whole. Live true to your heart, Sophia Hess. Cast off the trapings of the world and make of it what you will, not what it made you."

Before Sophia could say anything else, Archer bent her legs and then leaped up, landing on top of a large piece of unrecognizable scrap that might've been a motor of some sort a long time ago. She was framed by the large, if not quite full, moon that she stood in front of. "Never tolerate injustice, live true to your heart."

"Make of the world what you will," Archer added, "this is the Hunter's way."

Sophia nodded. "Why?" she asked. "Why did you come and tell me this?"

"A long, long time ago," she stated, "I was like you. A gallant knight saved my soul."

"So you intend to save mine?" Sophia asked. "Do you pity me?"

"Pity you?" Archer asked. "No," she said, shaking her head. "I am giving you a choice out of respect. What you do with it is for you to decide. My piece is said."

"Archer," Sophia said.

The Archer had already turned around. She gave Sophia one last look over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

"What was it? What was the purpose that you found?" she asked, "what did you do with your strength?"

She smiled. "That... is for me to know, and for you to discover. Your purpose is your own, Sophia."

Archer gave another leap and she was gone.

Sophia was left alone in the boat graveyard. Alone with her thoughts. Her hand squeezed her crossbow.

"A hunter, huh."

She wondered.

The confidence. The power. The sheer, raw, unadulterated control.

The peace.

She did not seek to crush those weaker than herself.

She was simply content in being stronger.

She was not a predator. She was something greater, something infinitely greater.

Something that Sophia realized, right then, that she had always aspired to be.

She was...

In control.

She did not let the world shape her, instead, she shaped the world around her.

"Have I been wrong?"


	8. 2-1 Thaumaturgical

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

2.1 Thaumaturgical

Archer walked through the door to the house. She didn't seem the least bit surprised to find me waiting for her behind it. In fact, she smiled. It was a sort of a cross between a proud and arrogant smirk and a genuine smile.

"So you just met with Sophia, didn't you?"

I know she did.

"You saw it," she said.

I saw it.

"So these really were visions of what you're doing when you're far."

I hummed to myself. It was strange. Apparently, if I concentrate or let my mind wander, I can focus on following one of my troops. I had been curious about Archer's behavior and I had zoned out during dinner. I was surprised to find myself intruding in her duel with Sophia. Well, 'duel' was a bit of a misnomer. Archer proved that Sophia was outmatched and that was that.

Still...

"What do you think you're doing?" I asked.

I have to keep my voice firm.

She has refused to talk about why she is friendly to Sophia. I know now, of course - she explained to Sophia and I was listening in. But I need to hear it from her own mouth.

"I am helping," she said. "You won't let me simply end her life, you won't let me cripple her," she said, "I know your type," she added. "So I went for the next best solution. Hopefully she'll pull her head off her ass, or I'll simply arrange for her and Squire to meet each other in battle, when we both know that Squire isn't good enough to fight to disable yet."

"Why?" I asked.

I need to know.

Why is she taking this initiative? She seems like the most uncaring of my troops, and yet I haven't had Knight offer to go and slaughter my enemies. Monk hasn't even joked about it.

So why Archer? Why her and not the rest?

"Because I can," she said, shrugging. "It's not difficult. It gets rid of my boredom temporarily. Who knows, maybe she'll even manage to become a semi-decent challenge to have a shootout with," she said. "I am beginning to lose my patience."

Everyone was getting restless. I want to go out and help, but I don't want to cause problems because I'm doing things wrong, I want to join the Wards so I can do things right. I wanted to join the Wards, to be a hero. I still want to be a Hero.

But honestly, with the PRT seemingly stalling for something and the fact that I discovered earlier today... Yeah, it's not exactly looking great.

I mean, I've heard about Shadow Stalker. The 'Redemption' success story.

I can imagine that she keeps her nose clean when the authorities can see it. What I need to know is if this is fact, or if she actually has people covering up for her. "Archer, give it to me straight. Do you think people are covering up for Sophia's behavior in school?"

"Undoubtedly," Archer said. "Teachers outright look the other way when she passes by, and I know at least two teachers witnessed bullying attempts," she said. "However, I can't say that I'm exactly certain of how far up it might go."

Nodding, I signalled for her to stop. "I've got everyone's take on this. The PRT is making us wait for some reason, and I'm beginning to get disillusioned. I think - tomorrow's the last day. If they haven't called by then..."

"We'll have to look for some other way," Archer said.

I nodded.

There was only so much money for food to go around. We needed the lodging and food situation seen to.

"I agree," I said. "I really don't want to, but if I we have to, we'll turn to vigilantism. I won't allow you guys to go hungry just because I'm too squeamish to steal from bad people. I... I want to know. I need to know if the PRT and Protectorate are protecting Sophia."

"And what if they are?" Archer asked. "What then?"

I sighed. "I don't know," I admitted. "I don't want it to be true. I want this to all be a misunderstanding, I want them to just not have known. I would prefer incompetence a thousand times over active malice. I think it was Hanlon's Razor, I can't remember, that went something like 'Never assume malice when incompetence is a valid explanation'. Call me an idiot and naive, but I don't want to believe that they're bad people out to get me."

She chuckled. "Usually people talk the other way around, believing themselves persecuted," she said, shrugging. "Personally," Archer said, "I would just say go and do mercenary work. You can veto jobs you don't like," she said.

I'd think about it. As it was, I wanted to sleep. "Get some sleep. You've got third slot watch. I won't tell you who you can and can't make friends with. But I don't like it."

"Hey," she said, "at least you can now be glad about one thing."

I stopped. "What?"

"I'm making friends with someone you hate. You should be happy. I don't think we could get better proof that you don't control my actions against my will."

It... she was right. It was actually kind of relieving to hear that. "Thank you. I still don't like that it's Sophia."

"I don't care," she said. "If you give the order, I'll stop, but I know you won't, so this is pointless."

She's right. I won't order her not to make friends, even if it's Sophia Hess, because I don't want to be that kind of person. I don't know that I could stop if I started giving orders like that.

So I don't.

I don't talk to her anymore, instead, I walk away.

The last thing I heard from any of my troops that night was a chuckle from Monk, as she watched a comedy on TV. I admit, it almost lifted my spirits.

* * *

The PRT called the next morning. I was about to get ready to go to school. I wouldn't be shocked to learn that they timed the call exactly so I'd miss school to show up at the PHQ, as they had called it.

Still, the person who had called me was Miss Militia, not some random goon. That already put me in good spirits. The fact that she'd been friendly and apologetic about making me miss school probably helped, though I assured her, I had no particular desire to go to school. I can't believe I'm still getting excited over being on the phone with a hero.

Miss Militia might be a good person, maybe, but Shadow Stalker was a ward.

I almost couldn't sleep, that little tidbit of information, the fact that Shadow Stalker was a ward, that she was also my tormentor, kept rumbling inside my head all night. I'd had a nightmare, wherein I would show up and the Wards would beat me up to make me keep quiet about Sophia being the justification for the Empire's existence.

I made the situation clear. There were six 'parahumans', and my father would be coming along. Miss Militia didn't seem to have a problem with that, and asked if I had transportation, or if she needed to arrange for a van. Dad's car can't take us all there comfortably, and I can already see Monk creating problems by making me sit on her lap, so I decided to nip that in the bud by accepting her offer of transportation.

She told me that there'd be a van ready in an hour, she gave me a location, model and plate number and then bid me good luck. I could hear something that was almost a strain in her voice, though it might've been phone line interference, or maybe she was coming down with something, or maybe she'd had a rough night herself.

I can't imagine that the heroes go to sleep every night, let alone sleep well an unworried. It's hard to believe it, but ironically, it's the evil villains that go to sleep with a clear conscience at night. It makes sense to me, anyway. After all, they're not the ones sitting alone on their beds wonering if they could've done more to maybe help that puppy that got run over by a car on their watch or something.

It's a hypothetical situation, don't judge me. I like puppies.

My troops dressed in streetwear, though they insisted on bringing their 'costumes' along, after a fashion - apparently, they expected some sort of confrontation. Chemist apparently had deeper pockets than I thought was possible, since she was storing pretty much their entire wardrobe on her bag, and I also knew it held a variety of cleaning supplies she'd picked up on grocery runs with dad.

Finally, we were in a black van, which didn't have any particularly noteworthy features. The most noteworthy thing about it was the tinted windows. From the outside. Inside, it was clearly set up like an APC, designed for ease of unloading its passengers in a hurry. It had two 'benches' set up, all seven of us fit comfortably inside. It was armored and I honestly felt kind of weird piling inside it.

It almost felt like a trap, but none of my troops had reacted to it, and I know they would if they suspected this was a trap.

We were moving at a slow pace, perhaps to not call attention, so we got bored. "What do you all think of this?" I asked.

I looked to dad first. "I think you're doing the right thing," he said, his tone somewhat tense. "Your safety should come first, and for all their flaws, I think you'll be safest with the Protectorate."

Squire seemed supportive of dad. It was strange to see - she was seated to his left, and he was in front of me, we'd both taken the middle seats, so to speak, and I can see that Squire seems somewhat attached to dad. It was something I had apparently missed. It's kind of cute. Squire might be older than me, I think, but she's still a young and sheltered girl, it seems, and she's looking for some parental guidance. I can't blame her for going to dad for it.

Yeah, yeah, I know, every little girl thinks her daddy is best daddy, but he's all I have had for a long time, excuse me if I love my dad, and think he's his best for me, even though he was in incredibly pain for a very long time.

I looked to the ones I had dubbed, in my mind, the mentally oldest of the group. Knight and Chemist. Monk was also an adult, but...

She was not exactly the image that came to mind when I thought 'mature adult', is what I'm saying.

Archer was just glancing out a window, clearly bored out of her skull, and I'm still kind of angry with her, so I'm not even gonna ask.

Chemist was deep in thought for a moment. "I think it's for the best," she said, finally. "Do you have any objections?" she asked.

I think she can see right through me right now.

"I thought so," she said. For all that she might fake obliviousness at times, she's still a trained medical professional, kind of, so I'm not shocked she can see through my façade to see how uncomfortable I am right now. "What is it?"

"One of my bullies," I said, "she was a ward," I added.

She nodded. "I understand how you feel," Chemist said. "But I have to say - you might want to let go of your grievances with them regarding it."

Knight interjected. "Chemist, we're not here to-" she said

However, I interrupted her. "Please," I said, "continue."

I don't know that I want to hear what she has to say. I don't think I should shut her down. I'm at a loss on what to do. They are all older, more experienced than me. I've never been a girl who would cowtow to authority at every turn, much less after Emma and company had methodically destroyed any trust I ever had in authority, but... I want to trust that she truly means good, I want to trust Chemist.

So I will hear her out.

"When it comes down to it," Chemist began, "this is an organization that has a single objective in mind - as far as the information you've provided tells me. They want to keep the peace."

I nodded. In theory, the PRT and Protectorate were there to ensure parahuman criminality went down.

"You are a young girl who has never been exposed to the realities of the world," Chemist said. "And I am very happy with the fact that this world you live in is safe enough that you can be that and not be an anomaly," she said. "But if I have to, I will be the one to pull the wool from your eyes, Master. I have broken bones to reset them correctly before, and this is no different," she said.

"What... do you mean?" I asked.

Knight sighed. I could see resignation in her. I think she agrees with Chemist, but doesn't want to go against me.

"You think of the world in black and white," Chemist said. "As an analogy, you see it as two lions fighting. The white lion is good. The black lion is bad. And that's all there is to it. Heroes are good, villains are bad."

Well, isn't that pretty much the case?

Apparently I said that out loud, because Knight and Chemist both shook their heads, however, it was neither of them that answered. "I wish it was that easy, kiddo," dad said. "The Protectorate is doing all it can, but sometimes, they just can't do enough. Think about it like this: it's probably possible for the Protectorate to take down and incarcerate Lung," he explained. "But then you're left with an uncontrollable gang that's only been held together by fear of a single man, and the only thing you achieve by taking down Lung was to plunge the city into the chaos of a gang war."

I frowned.

"The docks would likely receive the brunt of it, and the majority of the people who work in the area would likely be injured or would lose their jobs, or worse. Taking down Lung would be the morally correct thing to do, he's a horrible monster," he explained, matter of factly, "but that's very shortsighted. In fact, it was shortsighted heroes who caused this mess in the first place."

I'm confused. "What?"

"I am genuinelly curious, as well. Taylor didn't know the particulars of the politics of the city before the current situation, so any information would be highly appreciated," said Knight. "It would allow a clearer picture of this land."

"Well, there was a time that this city didn't have the ABB, the Empire was run by a different man and the Merchants were too busy constantly running from Galvanate to do much of anything," explained Danny. "The Docks were the territory of The March," he explained. "It was run by the Marquis. From what I hear he started out as a low level hitman for some local crime lord, then he apparently betrayed his boss and set up his own gang. Rumor goes that his boss wanted to execute a woman and her children and he went ballistic."

I'm... actually genuinelly curious. When I hear dad talk about the Marquis, it's weird, because I can hear something like awe mixed in with disgust, as if he respected the man as much as he disliked him. It was... odd, coming from dad. He was usually hardline against anything that had to do with the gangs. Then again, I do recall him mentioning that he'd rather have his workers end up with Uber and Leet than joining up with the Merchants.

So would I. I mean, yeah, Uber and Leet are kinda the laughingstock of Brockton Bay, but the Merchants are scum of the worst sort.

"When the Docks were under control of the Marquis... well, I'm not gonna say everything was peachy," dad explained, "but the common man could be out in the street and not have to fear some two bit thug high off his ass that could at any point pull out a knife and ruin anyone's day," he explained. "The man didn't tolerate rape or violence against women in general, and street level crime in his territory was very low. Come to think of it, Allfather was the same," dad mentioned, somewhat wistful. "But then the Brockton Bay Brigade," and he stopped.

He didn't say it with distaste or anger or anything like that. He said it with something akin to frustration, as if he was more annoyed than anything else.

"I'm sure they thought they were doing a good thing," he began, "but when they got him, he was instantly birdcaged. Too many kills," he said. "Of course, almost all of those were gang members, but who cares about those details," he added, this time with distaste clear. "He was sent to the Birdcage, the March fell apart without him. He didn't have a parahuman lieutenant that could get him out of the transport and he didn't have someone to step in his shoes when he left, so the Brockton Bay Brigade effectively left a vacuum where the March had once been, and that's when everything went to hell. Iron Rain was murdered, Allfather went insane because of that, died and was replaced by his son Kaiser. Then in the infighting and jockeying for position, Galvanate got Birdcaged as well, so the Merchants were free to grow and prowl, and Lung chose Brockton Bay as his stomping grounds."

"So basically everything went to hell because the Brockton Bay Brigade tried to do good by putting away a criminal warlord?" I asked.

I've heard the expression 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions'. I think the Brigade learned that lesson the hard way.

"Pretty much," dad finished. "You can say that it's the Brockton Bay Brigade's fault that everything went to hell in this city."

"Who are they?" I asked, curious. "I haven't heard of a team by that name, practically ever."

"That's 'cause they changed their name shortly afterwards. You probably know them better as New Wave," he said. "They're good people. They're trying to do good. But because they were reckless and didn't think things through, they plunged the city into some very deep shit, and I'm not sure we can recover. And if you want an example that's closer to home but still on the very same team... Glory Girl once stopped a bank robbery. She caused two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in property damage. Had she let the thieves go, they would have taken fifteen thousand."

Fuck me.

"Then... what am I doing? What can I do, if heroes are the cause of everything that went bad?" I asked.

"Well, kiddo," he said, "now you know. And the Protectorate, for all their flaws, are not reckless. They probably know all this way better than I do - people rag on them for keeping the status quo, but the last time it was upset, everything got worse, not better. So... if nothing else, at least go into this with an open mind, okay?" dad finished.

I could see my troops, they all looked at me, expectantly. "Okay," I said, taking a deep breath. It was hard. It was hard to accept that sometimes, you just had to let the villains go. I didn't like it. I think I understand it - I can't take down Lung unless I have a plan to replace him with something better. That would only cause problems for everyone. I think I agree with dad. The Protectorate, they can probably help do things way better than just rushing in and damn the consequences.

I think I could even justify them keeping Sophia. For all that I hate her, I know enough local news to know that Shadow Stalker is an effective heroine, that she is probably the highest contributor to arrests of petty criminals in the Wards. She's doing something that helps without upsetting the status quo and sending everything to hell.

I don't think I'll ever like her, or even tolerate her presence for very long... but I can at least see the worth in keeping her around.

"I think I get it," I said.

"Excellent, Master," Chemist said. "Thank you for your help, Mister Hebert."

He shook his head. "I hate to crush my daughter's ideal world," he admitted, "but the last thing I want is for you to do something you regret because you didn't have enough information."

I nodded. I would hug him, but the van doesn't have enough space to move comfortably. "Thanks, dad," I said.

He smiled.

We were rolling to a stop. It was time to face the music and see if I can pull my head out of my own ass long enough to see past my nose. I'm mixing metaphors, I know.


	9. 2-2 Thaumaturgical

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

2.2 Thaumaturgical

We were greeted by helmet wearing PRT soldiers. They were tagged as security, but I could see nothing behind their featureless dark helmets.

Knight decided she might as well get it over with and decided to go first, stepping out of the transport van and standing front and center. I knew what she intended. She's physically the hardiest of my troops. Monk might throw stronger punches and her abilities would let her outlast Knight in a straight up fight, but Knight could definitely take stronger blows more readily.

It helped that she was the only one of my troops wearing armor that would protect her. Archer had her big arm armor. It took me a while to realize that she only armored one side of her body because she usually stood in such a way that only that side was exposed to her enemy - it only came to me when she was practicing with her longbow and taking position with it.

Not that I allowed her to shoot in our house. No matter how much Dad wanted to know if she could really hit the wings off a fly with a toothpick. No matter how cool seeing that might be. I need to be responsible.

We piled up behind her. I'm not even surprised that myself and Chemist wound up at the center of the formation. There was just an innate first instinct to protect the healer, and protecting me was even more important considering I was the one calling the shots and could do even less in a fight than Chemist could. At least she could knife people.

The PR Troopers, and no just because I watched that show when I was a kid doesn't mean I'm a little girl who likes little children shows, shut up, seemed to give way to one of them that had a badge. Presumably a higher ranked officer than the average grunt. What would he be? Captain? Sargeant? I don't know how military or police rankings work or even if they apply to the PRT.

Regardless, he... he? Huh. I can't really tell.

"Miss Hebert," the PR Trooper said.

Damn, even the voice is ambiguous - was it modulated like that? It had a slightly metallic sound to it. Almost as if it was coming from a speaker, rather than a throat. It was probably modulated.

"Mister Hebert," he, she, it, let's go with it since I don't want to guess and be wrong... though I wonder if he or she would get offended by me referring to them as it?

Dammit, I'm getting distracted!

Dad, however, was not. "That'd be us, yeah," he said. Then he gave a grin. "Take me to your leader."

The soldiers seemed in good cheer, as there was some shaking of shoulders, ever so slight, that I figure indicates laughter being suppressed.

The one I'm calling captain nodded. "Follow me," Captain said, and we fell in line. Formation's easy now. Admittedly, it's easier when they form around me rather than me having to accomodate a formation, but hey, I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth today. No, today, today is the day where I will finally stop worrying if we'll have enough money for groceries!

Also the place is pretty nice in general. White, clean walls. A plant here or there to tie a room or hallway together. We stopped by the water cooler because we were all thirsty.

The captain was also surprisingly informative, as we asked random bits of trivia that I had heard about in PHO, and verified the truth of the statements found therein. A lot of those were obviously jokes and fake, but the Captain seemed to be willing to play along. Including the conspiracy theory that the PRT is secretly running a kidnapping ring under a pizzeria that takes parahuman children from their parents and ships them to China. Instead of denying it outright, Captain had only asked 'why would we send them to China?', and we agreed that if the PRT really was doing that, the Protectorate would probably have a lot more heroes in their employ.

Also I still don't know if he's actually male, if she's female or if it's a sentient, humanoid potato. Given some of the stuff on PHO, that's a rather tame theory, and even the Captain agreed. Also would it conform to a traditional human gender role? In that case, it still wouldn't solve my conundrum.

Soon enough, however, we arrived at a reinforced wooden door that read 'Dir. E. Piggot' in golden letters that I knew were actual brass. Mostly because the Captain told me that anything that looked gold was actually only painted to look like that or made of a stronger material that looks like gold, or brass. The PRT, apparently, had stopped using gold for pretty much anything visible since Tinkers often couldn't resist taking it to use in their creations.

I thought it was kind of ridiculous that they couldn't control Tinkers, but apparently, they often can't control themselves when they're in a fugue like that.

Glad I'm not a Tinker then!

We only waited for around fifteen seconds in front of the door. Apparently there were some last minute furniture touch ups they had to do, but soon enough, we were all inside the PRT Director's office.

First impressions are important. I know that. My first impression of the PRT Director, I'm ashamed to admit, is a shallow one because, well, you really wouldn't expect someone in that kind of position to be... Okay, I'll come straight out with it.

She's fat. And I'm not talking slightly pudgy or the like. I'm talking borderline, if not outright, obese. With the typical inflated cheeks of your average parody of a fat person in a comedy, an incredibly unflattering bob cut on her head and a face that spoke simultaneously of contempt and disdain, severe and rather mean.

Basically, she struck me as a pig in a wig that hates the world because of that. I'm ashamed to admit that, because it's wrong to judge people like that, but it's what she looks like!

"Mister Hebert, Miss Hebert," she said, "and entourage," she added, eyeing each of my troops in turn. "You gave only cape names," she said, explaining her choice of words. "Not a great start."

"If you didn't think we were trustworthy, you wouldn't be here meeting with us," Archer said, rolling her eyes.

"Silence," Knight said, her tone cold, "we are not here to antagonize the Law Enforcement."

Archer raised one eyebrow and looked at Knight.

"Are you their leader, then?" the Director asked Knight.

"I am not our leader, per se," Knight stated. "I only have as much authority as I am given."

"I see," Piggot said, "I assume that they are projections, then. Am I correct, Miss Hebert?" she asked.

"Don't you already have this information? I summoned them, I've already said that," I said, trying not to frown, it would show my frustration.

"Humor me, answer the question," the director said.

I rolled my eyes. "I don't control them like you would a projection," I explained, "it's more like... Well, she explains it better," I said, gesturing to knight.

"Right," Knight said. "Simply put, she is our Lord, and we follow her orders," Knight explained.

"How absolute?" the Director asked.

"As absolute as she intends them to be," Knight explained.

That's... actually kind of an interesting tidbit, I think. I have something of an idea of how my control over them works, so to speak. They have said they'll follow my orders of their own free will, but I wonder if the only reason they can deny me at all is because I don't want to control them absolutely...

"Give me an example," the director said.

"For instance, if she ordered me to draw my sword and stab myself as she usually gives her orders, I would be able to deny that request and ask for an explanation, clarification and I could even argue to have the order rescinded," Knight explained. "However, if she decides that I need to die and will brook no argument, then I will stab my own heart with no hesitation or complaint."

"... Is that true?" I asked, my voice felt almost distant to me. I looked at all my troops.

"Kind of," Monk said, "I mean, she's simplifying it a bit."

"I am," Knight admitted.

"Speaking with that kind of intent is not something you just do," Monk explained.

"I see," I could feel my relief flooding me. "It's not something I could do accidentally, then?"

"It's possible," Knight admitted. "If you are under heavy distress, it's very much possible that you might be desperate or angry enough to lose your inhibitions and give absolute orders. Do not worry, we will not hold those times against you."

"Speak about yourself," Archer said.

"Enlightening though this conversation might be," the director said, "I have more questions."

"Certainly," Knight said.

"Your abilities. We have a rough description, but I very much would prefer a summarization from the source. Give me an idea of what you're capable of. I don't need specifics - that will come from power testing later - but it's important that I have an idea of what you can do."

She was looking at me.

"Well, I, I personally don't have any abilities beyond the norm. For all intents and purposes, I'm just a beanpole," I explained. It's not that I like describing myself as a beanpole, but at least it's better than looking like a pig in a wig. Or an upright frog.

The director nodded, and seemed to write something. Huh, I hadn't noticed she had a pen and paper. Odd, she also had a perfectly serviceable computer next to her. Must be old school.

Knight gave a short summarization of her own abilities. The Director seemed interested in how she could weaken people without actively hurting them. She explained that they would need to see its effects in a controlled environment later.

This prompted my other troops to give explanations of their own abilities. Archer was second, though she didn't elaborate very much, simply explaining that she was simply a supernaturally good sniper. Archer is hiding how good she actually is - I think it's obvious she doesn't trust these people.

Third came Monk, and her simple explanation was about how she manipulated the natural energy of the body to produce various effects. The Director seemed quite interested in her healing abilities and the potential they could have. Again, she said there would be testing in depth later.

Fourth was Squire, who undersold her abilities as well, although I'm fairly certain it's because she's simply got a low opinion of them. I could see the Director's own interest. The Director described her as a grab bag brute, meaning a low level Brute, a strong and tough cape, that also had a host of minor abilities.

The final, and definitely most interesting, explanation came from Chemist. The Director, upon hearing her explanation, described her as a chemical Tinker, and Chemist agreed that it's probably the closest thing to an accurate simile. She was also told that if all went well, she'd likely be approached by the Tinker review board about helping her get settled so she could set up a lab to produce her creations.

Considering that if they worked as advertised, the PRT would pay costs for producing her creations and buy each one for a substantial price? I think this is probably the best deal I'm going to get. Well, I'm sure I could find a buyer who would pay more - this kind of stuff tends to go like that. Yeah, I'm not a criminal who sells stuff to the black market, but I don't need to be to realize that when only you can produce something, and that something is highly desirable like healing potions or an universal antidote, the only cap to how much money you can make off of it is how many you can make.

But just because I could probably make more money selling to criminals, doesn't mean I should. Selling to the PRT and Protectorate is simply safer and cleaner, and if we do that, we'll probably be important enough that they might bend over backwards to keep us with them. I hope, anyway.

Oh, hey, I wasn't paying attention. The Director was talking to my father about the duties of the Wards.

"-would not apply to your daughter," she said.

"I'm glad for that," dad said. "I mean, I know you want to be a hero, Taylor, but I don't think you should go on patrol."

I nodded. I wish I could actually. It sounds kinda fun to walk around in the night, keeping the streets safe, like one of those old vigilantes from comic books, that took the fight to the streets. No crime too big or too small!

"On the other hand," the Director said, "your projections... how mortal are they?"

"No less than yourself, although we are significantly tougher than the average," Knight answered for me.

"Brutes, in general," Piggot said. "Probably low level, but enough that you don't have to fear a man with a knife."

"Most likely, unless your average street-level criminal is packing a strong gun, most of them simply wouldn't be strong enough to hurt us," Monk said. "At least, not hurt us enough to incapacitate us," she amended, looking at Squire and Chemist.

"High caliber weaponry is not common for street level thugs," Piggot explained, "but it's possible and quite likely you'll find small caliber guns in high amounts. We'll test your Brute packages and deploy you accordingly."

I frowned. Something about that didn't sit right for me. I don't like the idea that she's talking about deploying my troops like they were her own.

"That's unacceptable," Knight said, simply.

"Explain," the Director said, her beady eyes focusing on Knight with strange intensity. I wonder what's going on right now.

"Simple. We deploy according to our Lord's orders, no one else's," she said. "And we will not compromise her safety."

"Problematic," the Director admitted, "but not something that cannot be worked around. Arrangements can be made, and if necessary, then we will simply relay orders and such through her."

I nodded. "That sounds better," I said, though... when it comes down to it, I don't think I like being subordinate. The idea of relaying someone else's orders to my troops, as if I was simply a messenger instead of the one commanding them, it's making me feel slightly queasy. "Though it doesn't sit right with me," I added.

It looked as if the Director was looking for the right words to phrase her next statement, but dad beat her to it. "It's your choice, Taylor. I think," he said, "that you should sit on that for a while. Besides, I'm sure you can find a working compromise."

Nodding, I looked towards my future boss, potentially, and gave her a nod as well. "I think I can put up with a bad sensation, but I'd really like to find a compromise or something."

"I will not mince words, Miss Hebert," she began, and I stood at attention, her voice is surprisingly commanding. That's the kind of tone I want to hit, myself, whenever I have to give an order to my troops. "Your leeway will depend purely on how useful your projections' abilities are and your behavior. To put it in simpler terms, be trustworthy and useful, and we'll meet you halfway."

"It's not too different from any normal, regular nine to five," dad said.

"Pretty much," the Director said.

I actually have a more important question, regarding this. "So if I prove an able and trustworthy commander for my troops, you wouldn't tell me what to do with them?"

The Director closed her eyes and seemed to fall in thought for a moment. "Prove that we can trust you to do it, and we'll let you do it. Our orders will become suggestions. In the future, it's entirely possible you might find yourself doubling as consultant for PRT deployment and operations, if you have a gift for strategy and tactics."

"And it also sounds like an useful ability to have," dad explained, "if you intend to lead your own Protectorate team some day."

Huh.

That's... that's kind of a nice thought, actually. Yeah, I can picture myself already, sitting on the chair where Legend once was, controlling the Protectorate on a macro scale.

I nodded. "I think that's a good offer," I said. "What do you guys think?"

My troops looked at me. I smiled.

"I think joining the Protectorate as a Ward is for the best. Where do I sign?" I asked.

It seemed I had said the right words. The right words to summon a mountain of paperwork.

Dad winced, and my wrist already had phantom pains. This is going to suck.

* * *

Incidentally, the previous chapter got one of the dumbest reviews I've ever gotten, from a guest.

I won't say which one it is, but basically, it comes down to someone who seems to not have actually read Worm at all, only fanfiction.


	10. E-1 It's So Easy When You're Evil

**Brockton Bay Tactics: What If Taylor Was Evil?**

* * *

Summary: I got bored so I thought this up. I'm not sorry. Taylor triggered. Then shit got worse and she went full villain.

* * *

E.1 It's So Easy When You're Evil

Emma smirked. "Back again, Taylor? I would've thought you would've figured out that nobody wants you here by this point," she taunted, leaning back ever so slightly. She did it to look down on me, or at least present the illusion of doing so. I was, after all, much taller than her. Well, maybe not much taller, but certainly noticeably so.

There was a time when that would've struck me hard. Where that would've made me cower and simply try to hide in my shell while they rained taunts upon me.

"And the smell! Ugh!"

Apparently, they were still talking, going by Madison's comment.

"I'm sick of your shit," I said, finally. "So I'm going to shut you up now."

Emma blinked, seeming confused. "Oh, really? You can't even come up with a witty retort and you want to shut me up?"

"Not with words. I mean I could," I said, raising one hand to scratch just under my ear. It kinda itches. "After all, I know just as many embarrasing things about you as you know about me," I said. "Like what your first wet dream was."

Emma seemed to pale then. "Y-You wouldn't..!"

"Watch it, Hebert," Sophia nearly growled, apparently offended that I'm not laying down and taking it as usual.

"No, you're right, I wouldn't. Because I'm not like you," I said. "But I'm also so thoroughly and completely done with your shit that I've decided, fuck it. I have superpowers, I'm gonna fucking use them."

"You what now-" Emma began.

But before she could say much of anything, a gauntleted hand was holding her by the neck. "This one, Mistress?" a statuesque blonde beauty asked, turning slightly towards me. She had materialized immediately, the moment I'd thought about calling her to my side. Of course, I'd tested my ability to summon her extensively before coming here. No matter where she was, if I called, she would be here instantly, as if by magic.

Sophia burst into motion, but even as she threw a punch towards my face, a mental tug had yet another blond woman appearing to defend me, this one wearing what amounted to a sports bra and those Japanese gym short things that kinda look like they should be underwear. Bloomers? Bloomers. Probably.

The track star was quickly immobilized by my Brute servant.

My Knight was holding Emma by the neck and squeezing. "Should I break her neck?" she asked, placidly.

I can see the hanger ons dispersing, running away in fear. Some would probably call a teacher or lots. Whatever, I don't give a crap anymore.

"Nah, too easy," I said. "This bitch is proud of how pretty she is. D'you think you can disfigure her without killing her?"

"Easily," my Knight said, reaching with one hand towards her belt where her sword was sheathed. She drew it and put it close to Emma's face. "Nothing personal, little girl," she said, "but my Lord's word is law."

Emma screamed as the sword bit into her skin.

I heard a scuffle - Sophia had apparently freed herself and- she turned into black smoke. Interesting. She lunged for me once more, but even as she was about to reach me, I stood impassive, hands clasped behind my back. She smirked, clearly thinking it was her victory.

She never saw the Wave Fist that hit her back, driving the air out of her lungs and stopping her mad dash.

"This thing is a track star," I mused. "Let's ruin that. Stomp on her knees, make sure they're so thoroughly shattered that she'll never walk away, let alone run," I ordered.

"With pleasure, my master," my lovely brute said, as she walked up to Sophia. She had recovered enough to try to stand up, but before she could so much as think to transform, she was struck once more. She avoided the next attack by transforming into shadow or smoke or whatever. She tried to put her hand through my Monk, probably intending to rematerialize with her hand still inside, but Monk was smart and fast enough to dodge, and when Sophia was physical again, a punch to the kidneys had her in too much pain to think of transforming. Shortly after she was thrown to the ground once more, this time much more violently, and my monk then stomped on each of her knees in turn.

Her screeches of agony are... surprisingly pleasant to hear.

Emma was bleeding all over her face, crying and in general blubbering. "Knock her out, she annoys me," I said.

Knight nodded and hit her on the back of the head with the hilt of her sword.

I smiled. She'll never be pretty again, short of a miracle.

"Well, I think this went pretty well, all things considered," I mused. "Now, I'm willing to bet the police or Protectorate are gonna be here pretty soon," I said, looking at them before smiling and gesturing with my hand, sweeping it wide in front of me. Before me, four more appeared. A young girl in what basically amounts to chainmail bikini. A scantily clad woman holding a longbow. A woman carrying a large bag. Finally, a woman in a strange robe that didn't cover her front at all with a large straw hat perched on her heat.

"Mistress," they said, immediately going to their knees. They were promptly joined by their fellows.

I smiled. It feels really good to finally be treated with some respect. "No killing the Law Enforcement, now. When I've figured out how to get everyone out we'll wage war, but for now, I don't need that kind of attention."

They all nodded. "Yes, mistress!" they chorused.

"Excellent," I said, "Now come on. We'll fight in a battlefield we can control if at all possible."

* * *

Unsurprisingly, three PRT vans showed up. The officers set up a perimeter around Winslow, aided by the Police. The Protectorate, surprisingly, showed up in force.

From Archer's vantage point, I can see Miss Militia already setting up on a sniper's nest, hidden from the view of people without her kind of eyes, in a nearby building. On the ground in front of the gates are Armsmaster, halberd ready, and Dauntless, gear deployed and crackling, though that could just be how Archer saw it. Their perception is not identical to mine, not fully, and they see things that I cannot.

Velocity appeared in a blur. Hm. He's apparently trying on some kind of tech-costume, given that it's yellow and seems to have bits of technology, likely Armsmaster's, on its shoulders. Archer can almost see him move, but it's useless to try - he's little more than a blur she catches sometimes. That's probably more than any human alive can see when he's moving, but not enough that she could shoot him, and if I know how his speed works, shooting where he would be doesn't work because he would dodge.

Still, four heroes showing up for little old me. Not bad, really - honestly, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't rate this kind of response. Something must be weird, or maybe they were all close by.

Regardless, Armsmaster is shouting into some sort of device that amplifies his voice. I wonder why he didn't just use a megaphone, but then again, Tinkers gonna Tinker.

"Let the hostages go," he ordered, the only part of his speech I paid attention to.

Everyone was in position.

First, however...

Archer took aim.

The arrow that tore through Miss Militia's arm cracked the sonic barrier, pulped her flesh, nearly disintegrated her bones and took her out of the fight, with very serious and heavy wounds.

Archer left the tree she was perched on and dove through a strategically opened window, quickly rushing into safety. I had expected Velocity to show up - it'd be kinda hard for him not to considering his speed and all. I have a counter prepared.

He chased Archer through the window. I had her stop and simply look at him. I hope against hope that he's not smart enough to look around the room using his super speed and... he isn't. Well, plan A worked, since Monk cuffed him in the back of the head and he dropped. Plan B was a bit more difficult to pull off, and would require that Archer and Monk lure him into a blind corner where Knight would then Speed Break him, hopefully rendering him unable tot outspeed my troops. Supposedly without his super speed he's just a normal guy.

Okay, now that we've got the two main problems out of the way, we'll concentrate on Armsmaster and Dauntless. Velocity was tied up and left in that room. Monk took the time to give him a wedgie just because. I like her initiative.

They rejoined us just in time for Dauntless and Armsmaster to bust through the doors. Idiots, they weren't even locked. Then again, the locks probably don't even work. Whatever. They ran in, clearly looking for traps.

Before them stood Knight, holding her sword and shield at a ready stance, at the far end of the first half they turned. Behind them, once they turned to make sure, was Squire, holding a broadsword with both hands. She was nervous, I can tell. She shouldn't be. This is going better than I expected and she has backup I hadn't accounted for in the plan, she'll be fine.

The heroes predictably split off to engage my troops one at a time. Armsmaster went to engage Knight, Dauntless was seemingly trying to talk Squire out of the fight.

I admit, he would probably have managed to do so. Squire is not very fond of fighting, I've found. Unfortunately for him, I don't need her cooperation, per se, and she can't say no anyway. Knight engaged Armsmaster and let herself be driven back. Armsmaster seemed to be wary of her defensive style, especially since I think he can tell Knight is sandbagging.

Either way, he chased her as she retreated, fighting all the way.

Meanwhile, the troopers outside were in formation and were being given indications by their field leader, I think. Well, don't say I don't accept gifts graciously.

Wizard, sitting on the school rooftop, looks down on them and I smiled when she raised her jewelled rod, chanting almost in tune with the man barking orders. "Thundara," she said and then brought her rod down. I could almost smell the ozone. A lightning bolt descends from the cloudless blue sky and leaves them with quite the shocking impression of my powers, I'd say. Shut up, bad puns are okay when you're a bad guy, and I have no delusions about that anymore.

Since she's exposed, I have her pull back and begin walking back towards my position. It's possible she might get sniped, so I have her take off her hat and crouch down when there's any window she could potentially be seen from.

Soon enough, Dauntless and Armsmaster are both isolated, their PRT support has been taken out, Miss Militia requires medical attention stat, and Velocity is still tied up.

Everything's working better than expected.

Time to save Squire from the beating Dauntless is giving her. She's defending herself quite well, but the Hero has more experience and better gear. That'll have to be rectified at some point, I suppose. Still... She turns tail and runs. He predictably gives chase. She rounds a corner, he follows and gets a facefull of monk fist.

Seriously, this is amateur stuff and it's depressing that I'm catching them with this kind of trick. I swear I've had harder games of Mouse Protector Trap. Then again, they're probably severely underestimating me, and don't even know how many hostiles there are in the building.

Knight has stopped sandbagging, and is now fighting Armsmaster all out. He is... surprisingly able to keep up. It might be his superior gear bridging the gap between their physical abilities, raw skill in handling of his weapon, the fact that a halberd is such a good weapon in general - good choice from him there, I guess - or simply because Knight actually fatigued herself a little and now isn't performing fully.

Maybe it's the fact that I said no killing so she can't just go for killshots while he's used to working non-lethally.

It's probably that last one.

Either way, Armsmaster is the last Hero standing, but not for much longer. Knight stands her ground well enough until reinforcements arrive. He does a heroic last stand type of thing. It doesn't go too well for him. He did injure Knight rather noticeably. I actually loved his expression when he saw Chemist distribute her potions, proving that all that they'd done, tiring out and injuring my troops, meant absolutely nothing - they're back to full strength.

I now feel less bad about robbing so many people to get her the materials she needed. It was that satisfying.

* * *

It doesn't take long for Archer to stealthily retrieve Miss Militia's soon-to-be corpse. Fortunately, she was brought in quick enough that a few forcefully fed potions restored her arm fully. Chemist assured me that she'd have full use of her arm. I guess I shouldn't care that much, but Miss Militia had been a symbol of girl power for a while to me, and, well, sentimentality is sentimentality.

I had my physically stronger summons, Knight and Monk, gather the Protectorate heroes. They were tied up, Armsmaster had several pieces of his armor broken, and brought together.

Chemist fed them the cure to sleep. She slapped each of them in turn. She's got a hell of a pimp hand, apparently.

"It's funny," I said, "no Protectorate heroes showed up when Lung burned down my house, but four, and I count them, four, showed up the very instant someone lay a finger on those bitches," I spoke. "Maybe I should just kill you here. You're all worthless as heroes anyway."

"You won't get away with this," Armsmaster spoke, as the leader, I imagine.

"Of course I won't, I knew that when I decided the world can go fuck itself," I explained.

"Miss Hebert," Miss Militia began, "it doesn't have to be this way," she said. "Just give yourself up - you'll receive a fair trial and-"

Dauntless interrupted. "Militia, stop," he said.

She looked at him, or tried anyway - she can't crane her neck enough to her right.

Armsmaster nodded. "You clearly want something, or else you wouldn't have captured us like this. Where are Miss Hess and Miss Barnes?"

"I put them in an embarrasing position and had her," I said, gestuing towards Chemist, "make sure they wouldn't die from their injuries."

"You tortured them?" he asked, his tone cold.

"Kinda, yeah," I admitted, freely. "It's not revenge unless you, you know, actually take revenge."

"You'll pay for this," Velocity said. "They were innocent girls, you'll-"

"Oh, cut the shit," I said, "Those two bitches are the reason I have superpowers at all," I said.

"... Fuck," Dauntless chorused. "They made you trigger?"

"The hell's that?" I asked, genuinelly curious.

"It's the event that gives you superpowers," Miss Militia helpfully provided. "But... why this? Why do this!? You could've gone to the police, to the PRT, you could've gone to the Protectorate, so why-"

"I did," I said, closing my eyes, "I did go to the police. I did go to the PRT. I did go to the Protectorate. The police dropped their investigation. The PRT told me to fuck off. The Protectorate helpline told me to contact the police. I gave up then," I said. "And that would've been that... except that there was a fight between the Empire and the ABB. In my neighborhood. As a result of that, I no longer have anyone whose opinion of myself I care about. Funny, I harbor less hatred for the man who murdered my father than the people who should've prevented it but were busy sitting with their thumbs up their asses while the public that they swear they protect and serve BURNS ALONE IN THEIR FUCKING HOUSES!"

I couldn't prevent myself from doing it.

I'm fairly sure I knocked one of Miss Militia's teeth out with the kick that came out from the very core of my being, the expression of mounted frustration far stronger than anything I could hold in.

I think I might've broken one of my toes, it hurts like shit. "Potion, now," I ordered. Soon enough, the ache on my foot was gone.

Armsmaster seemed to be quiet at that point. "That...," he said. "I ordered the Protectorate to pull back, to wait and attempt to deescalate the situation instead of engaging Lung. It would have caused him to grow further. I took a decision, I made a call, and I defend it as the right and rational choice," he said. "The fatalities we contemplated if Lung continued to grow were significantly higher. You're throwing a tantrum-"

"A tantrum?" I asked, glaring at him. "I can't believe I used to be a fan, you're a fucking asshole," I said. "I'm glad my pa- er, paraphernalia," I quickly covered, I don't need to tell him that I owned panties with his logo on them, "burned down with my house. Because that fucking happened because of you!"

Dauntless, Velocity and Miss Militia were silent.

Armsmaster was fuming. "You-" then he stopped.

Miss Militia spat some blood and what appeared to be a piece of one of her teeth and turned towards me. "Miss Hebert. I understand that you are angry. You have every right to be angry. You went through an extremely traumatic experience only to be followed up by yet another one. It is for this reason, and only this reason, that I am not myself furious right now. Make no mistake. I am angry. But I understand that you are not thinking rationally, and that-"

"Oh, you're gonna play the good cop now? Make me think you're all nice and understanding, then throw me in a jail cell. Probably will even claim I 'resisted arrest'," I spat.

"I assure you," Miss Militia said, "those are not my intentions."

Dauntless, who had been looking at the floor, suddenly turned to Knight. "Are you serving her willingly?"

"Of course," Knight said. "I will do as my mistress commands because I desire to do as mistress commands," she said, haughtily. "And my fellows are the same."

"Seriously," I said, rolling my eyes. "They're my power. You're not going to get them to betray me nimrod."

"Worth a try," Dauntless admitted.

I smirked.

Velocity looked at me. "Do you think this makes you strong? That this makes you powerful?"

"Oh, you're going to go the psychological break route?" I asked. "It's not gonna work. I'm not doing this to feel strong or anything. I disfigured Emma and broke Sophia's knees because I really, really hate them. I had originally thought to just beat the crap out of the response that showed up and leave them tied up with Emma and Sophia, but then the Protectorate decided to come in force to save those bitches, and you know, it just reminds me of the unfairness of it all. Everything always seems to go their way. And I'm sick of tolerating it. So I'm responding."

"What did they do to you? What made you think that disfiguring a young girl and rendering another into a cripple was okay!?" he continued, agitated.

"That," I began, "is none of your business. They did it, they laughed, and now they're going to cry," I said. "I want to make one thing exceedingly clear. I could have killed all of you here. I chose not to. I could have unmasked all of you and learned your identities. I chose not to. I know my identity is shot to hell, but let me make one thing painfully and absolutely clear. You have no idea what I'm capable of, or willing to do. I chose to let it end here. I want to make it clear that you lived through this by my mercy, and I want you to know how worthless you so called heroes really are. Defeated by an untrained teenaged girl. If you come after me, I will not be so nice next time."

* * *

It's not that surprising that I wound up with the Empire.

My very public beating and disfiguring of a Race Traitor, as they called Emma, as well as me crippling Sophia Hess, also known as 'that nigger' to the Racist fuckwads that surrounded me, put me in a very positive standing with them.

I'm not sure I like being surrounded by racist assholes so often. Or the fact that more than one skinhead has made a pass at me. But Kaiser has a fuckton of money and he's perfectly willing to keep me content by giving me food, entertainment, a place to stay and stuff for Chemist to work with. Apparently, she can develop new and exciting concoctions, she just needs to have a proper lab to do so. Medhall has lots of such labs for her to use. And who'da thunk it? Kaiser of the Empire is Max Anders, CEO of Medhall Pharmaceutics Inc.

He's a smooth talker, but apparently likes the fact that I'm straight and clear with my wants and needs. I told him straight out that I won't embrace his ideology, and he told me that it's not uncommon. So long as I did my thing and remained loyal to the Empire, what I believed in the privacy of my head and what I did in the privacy of the apartment he gave me was my business. He's also made no secret of the fact that he intends to convert me to his way of thinking. Apparently he likes a straightforward approach.

It's been nearly a week now, and after a skirmish with the ABB, I feel ready to summon yet again. It seems that being in combat increases the rate at which my power... grows, for lack of a better term.

The blonde in a minidress with a hood that answers my call is just as beautiful as the rest, and with her fair skin, blue eyes and blond hair, the ideal for a gang of nazis. She's a Priest, apparently. When I introduced her as such, Hookwolf made an offhand comment about wanting to join her church, which elicited a few guffaws from Stormtiger. They're jerks.

Othala seems to be afraid that I'll usurp her spot as the Empire's healer. I will. Kaiser says that frees her up to grant Invincibility to Victor so he can use his stolen combat skills to greater effect. That seems to perk her up. I'm not surprised Kaiser's good with controlling his minions.

Purity met with me in private. Apparently the rumor that she's not Empire anymore are kinda sorta true and kinda sorta not really. She's still friends with a great deal of people in the Empire, so she doesn't attack them, but she doesn't participate in their stuff either. She's also way more of a believer in this stuff than I am.

She warned me away from Kaiser, telling me he was a snake.

I knew already - he was the kind who reminded me of the more interesting and compelling depictions of the devil. Big offers, big prices. I explained as such. She seemed surprised that I was still with the Empire after I told her I don't believe in the Nazi ideology. The answer was simple.

I need to eat and feed my troops. Kaiser gave me the means to do so, and all I had to do in turn was have them put in some work.

Of course, I didn't tell Purity that I intend to leave the Empire as soon as I've got a large enough squad to establish myself as a power in the city.

But for now? For now I would simply have a symbiotic relationship with the Empire. I'll stick to the rules I told Kaiser when I first joined up. I won't kill for him, I won't participate in hate crimes for him and I won't prostitute my troops for him. I also refuse to let him command any of them. He seems to be okay with trying to twist me to his whim through manipulation, rather than force. He's probably that kind of guy. He's almost certainly good at it, too. Those twins of him seem to be devoted, almost as much if not perhaps even more so than my guys were devoted to me.

Impressive, to say the least.

Purity stayed only for tea and then left. Apparently, she was satisfied to know that the Empire's powerful new cape wasn't even a Nazi.

Either way, life's looking up. It's sad that I had to hit rock bottom to finally realize that I need to stop worrying about what others would think in order to be happy, and I'm pretty pissed off at myself about what had to happen for me to finally hear the wake up call. But I'm glad I did.

Because this city... this is my city.

This is dad's city.

No hero can save it. But I can.

I will. If it's the last thing I do, dad, I'll save this city, even if I have to burn it to the fucking ground to do so.


	11. 2-3 Thaumaturgical

**Brockton Bay Tactics**

* * *

Summary: It wasn't the Queen Administrator, but the Queen Tactician, and so Taylor's power is completely different. Well, at least she's playing with a full party now.

* * *

2.3 Thaumaturgical

"Why do I feel like I just sold my soul to the devil?"

Dad laughed as he saw me rubbing my wrist. He had to sign just as many papers as I did and on top of that he also had to sign on several of the papers I signed on because, you know, minor and stuff. I had always thought contract signing scenes in movies were at least somewhat accurate. You know the kind - lawyer says sign here, sign here, initials here and you're done, right?

Nope. It was more like "sign literally every page at the bottom".

But screw that, I'm excited, I'm a hero now! Officially! Okay, so I'm not gonna be the one going out to punch fools in the face, but hey, it happens because of me, so I've got that going for me.

"You'd be shocked how many times I've heard that joke," the Director said. What was her name? I think I can't remember my own.

"You wouldn't be the only one," dad said. "It's old as dirt, too," he added.

I looked at the director. Her face reminds me of a pig in a- oh, right, Piggot. Piggot something. Man that's an unfortunate name. I took a deep breath.

"I wanted to get that out of the way first so you won't misunderstand me," I began. "I have a question for you."

"I take it's important," Director Piggot said, shifting ever so slightly. This is where I need to engage my brain. Focus, Taylor! "And you seem to think I would misunderstand it if you weren't already provisionally a Ward."

"Provisionally?" I asked, actually curious on that. "Wait, no, explain that later, first I really need to know something. I attend Winslow," I began.

"If you're asking about a transfer to Arcadia, that would only take a month or two," she said, "at most," she added, probably looking at my own dissatisfied expression regarding that.

"No, not about that," I clarified. "I attend Winslow, and I know there's one Ward there already."

All of a sudden, she changed. It wasn't a transformation, it wasn't an overt and obvious change - it was subtle. She had been sitting somewhat placidly, leaning back against her chair and mostly being so neutral I wasn't really getting anything even resembling proximity to a read on her, but she doesn't seem to care that she's being fairly obvious with her tension now. "Shoot," she commanded.

"Uhm... How bad is it if I reveal her identity to my dad?" I asked.

"Bad," the Director said, "but not as bad as a stranger. How many people know?"

"Just myself and my troops," I said, honestly.

"How? Did she reveal herself or anything of the sort?" Piggot asked, her tone hard and somewhat accusatory.

"Archer?" I asked, turning to her. No, I didn't squeak that out.

"It didn't take long," Archer said, shrugging. "I've been playing lookout some of the time and I've got very good eyes," she said, somewhat smugly. "Good enough to see the scars left from someone who wields a small crossbow on both of her hands. I made an educated guess based off of that and the situation at Winslow and I was right."

"I see," Piggot said. "Unlikely to be problematic with the general public, and not really solvable, short of changing her choice of weapon," Piggot ultimately said. "And only few Thinkers will notice."

I cleared my throat. "Regarding what I was saying..."

"Yes, what's the matter?" Piggot said, now somewhat more calm, though still looking a little on edge. "What did Shadow Stalker do this time?"

I blinked. "Uhm..." I felt a bit silly bringing it up.

Seeing that I was floundering, probably, dad put a hand on my shoulder. "Just say it. Nobody's gonna think ill of you, Taylor, because you're a young girl faced with an imposing woman."

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Piggot said, somewhat smugly.

"Well then, outright scary might be a better word choice," Dad said, cheekily. Apparently he's having fun. That's good I guess.

Breathing deeply, I decided to start again. "She's a colossal bitch," I blurted out.

"Yes," Piggot said, "but that's nothing new. She's on probation. What did she do?" she asked again.

"She's a bully," I said, "and it feels a bit silly to whine about bullying here of all places, but it's been more than a year of non-stop bullying."

"Let me make a guess," Piggot said, "you got your powers from something she did to you, didn't you?" she asked.

I didn't trust myself to speak without sounding like a whiny little shit, so I just nodded.

"Jesus christ," she said, leaning forward a bit. "Miss Hebert," she said, "I will admit I respect your willingness to join the Protectorate as a Ward despite the fact that the very same person who made you trigger is currently a Ward," she said, "but I have to admit I am curious."

"Me too," Dad said. "I know what we talked about in the van might've been part of your inspiration, Taylor, but this is big. I mean, we've already joined, are you really okay with working for the Protectorate like this?"

"Yes," I said, nodding. "Honestly, if I let Sophia keep me from doing what I want to do, if I allow her to be the reason why I don't do my best to help people and become a hero, then all I'm doing is proving her right."

"Interesting reasoning," Piggot said, "mind elaborating?"

"It's not really all that complicated or interesting," I admitted. "It would just be me saying that I can't be what I want to be because of her, and I won't give her that pleasure."

Dad looked at me oddly, but we both turned with surprise to Piggot, who was laughing, somewhat sedatedly. "Well you're right it's not complicated," she admitted. "Let me summarize it for you, girl," she said. "The next time someone asks why join despite her, the best answer you can give is "because fuck her that's why"."

Huh. "I like the sound of that," I admitted, freely. I can almost feel the smile drawing itself upon my face.

"So, now you've told me why you're still joining, despite her presence," Piggot said, "and you know that I believe you when you said that Shadow Stalker made you trigger. However, I know there's something more."

I nodded. "I want to know that she's not getting away with her actions in Winslow because you're covering for her. I guess... I want you to tell me that you're not just forcing the school to keep quiet and not discipline her just to keep her content and working for you."

Piggot seemed to fall into thought for a few moments. "I will be frank with you, Miss Hebert," she said. "We need every available parahuman we have. Especially in Brockton Bay. I cannot call in more Parahuman resources from the Protectorate without Armsmaster's approval, and even when I do have it, then I must deal with the bureaucracy on both sides, and when I'm done with that, all I get is either Legend telling me he can't spare anyone from his overstaffed New York teams or Chief Director Costa-Brown telling me to just employ more PRT squads."

"So that's it?" I asked, somewhat hurt. "She gets off scot-free because we're understaffed?"

"Hardly," Piggot said. "Much as I need every parahuman I can get my hands on to stay in Brockton Bay, a rambunctious, uncontrollable sociopath is just as bad, if not even worse, than nothing at all. I explained that to you so you understand why I am not going to send Shadow Stalker to juvenile detention, nor am I going to dismiss her from the wards, regardless of the break of her probation."

I nodded. She's going somewhere, I can tell.

"But," she said, "I agree with you that she cannot walk away from this unscathed. I guarantee that she will be punished for her actions."

"Is she only getting punished because of how versatile Taylor's power is?" dad asked, unknowingly voicing a concern of mine.

"No," Piggot said. "The only difference is that your daughter will hear of it, instead of not knowing anything's different until, if we're lucky, she has a resultant attitude change."

"I'm surprised you've been so open to us and believed my daughter," dad said. "It's nice but more than a little strange. After all, my daughter, an outsider, just told you that one of your employees, for lack of a better term, was harassing her."

"It's a variety of factors," Piggot said. "We will carry out an investigation, but at this point, it's more to see how bad the damage is. I had considered the lack of reports of disciplinary problems regarding Shadow Stalker's civilian identity to be strange, considering her disciplinary record when her mask is on, so you are merely confirming some of my own suspicions."

"I see," dad said. "Well, that'd explain it."

I nodded. "So... that's basically it, I think. We're done here for now, with the legal side of things?"

"Mostly," Piggot said. "Armsmaster needs to review and sign off on quite a few of the forms, we'll send a copy to the Youth Guard, who will be contacting you as well. As soon as we conclude our investigation on Shadow Stalker, we will discuss reparations for her behavior."

"Reparations?" I asked. "Honestly, I'd just be okay with her being made to scrub toilets with her toothbrush or something like that," I admitted. I wasn't really thinking of the money. "I'm more interested in seeing justice be done than in being paid to shut up about it."

"There's no point in being noble here," Piggot said. "Justice will be done regardless. Consider the money an apology."

"I dunno," I said, leaning back. "Taking the money just feels dirty somehow. Like if I was suing someone just for money, instead of because they genuinelly wronged me. I mean, that's always bothered me. I see those big cases where the people suing just seem to want money instead of to put the person they're suing in jail."

"What you see on TV is frequently a very small fraction of what really happens and even then, phrased and reworked in such a way as to turn it into something completely different," Piggot explained. "For that matter, most of those lawsuits you hear about are usually settled out of court, most of the action is the parties' lawyers meeting up and discussing the terms of the settlement and more importantly, it's a different kind of lawsuit that can result in someone being given jail time or even community service."

"It's a bit confusig," I admitted. "A bit too much for one day maybe."

Piggot nodded. "Get some rest. We'll contact you when it comes time to test your projections' powers. It'll also give our PR team time to come up with a few ideas regarding your identity, and time for others to brainstorm your place in the Protectorate. An educated guess? You'll likely be coordinating from a console, so get ready for that."

I nodded. Honestly, just being able to help by coordinating people was more than I'd expect to be able to do without powers of my own around here. with some luck, I might be able to learn to fight and not be completely useless, but until then, I'm probably a liability on the field. No, scratch that, I'm definitely a liability on the field as I am right now.

But... I have to admit.

Things are definitely looking up. Are they perfect?

No, not even close. Some part of me, deep within, has a visceral yearning to see Sophia's head mounted on a pike. Some part of me wants to lash out against Piggot for refusing to throw Sophia completely under the bus.

But that part of me is ruthlessly squashed. I can feel Knight's hand reassuringly on my shoulder, opposite the shoulder Dad had squeezed earlier.

With my eyes closed, my imagination fills in the gaps. Knight smiles approvingly, Chemist nods seriously, Monk gives me a confident grin, Squire seems content and Archer seems grudgingly approving.

Even if everything isn't going exactly perfectly, I can't complain.

I'm not alone anymore... I'll do my best to be worthy of the trust they've put in me.

I'll be a hero that everyone can be proud of!

* * *

Yeah, yeah, short chapter I know.

Also fun fact: We got our first troll reviews! They're precious. It's like a milestone for every story. You know you're somehow inexplicably more popular than your skill says you should be when people come into the story purely for the purpose of trolling.

Guest reviews with questions annoy me because I can't answer them directly. If you've got a question, log in so I can answer it!


	12. Interprelude

**Interprelude  
**

* * *

Summary: Taylor could not play the flute or, indeed, any wind instrument really. Her talents could be found elsewhere, but that was not to say she was completely void of musical talent entirely.

* * *

When she was young, Taylor had adored her mother's flute, and the sounds that the woman could pull out of it. Really, there wasn't much more to it than that. Even when she was an infant, Taylor had always been brought up around music, frequently her mother singing to her or playing her soothing melodies with the beloved instrument.

That had been why the theft of it had struck her so, why the idea that her once best friend would destroy something so sacred and then steal it had shook her so. Why she had cried again, as if her mother had been stolen from her again, even though she had long thought her tears dried and gone.

Oh, how she had tried to be like her mother, in that if in nothing else. She had tried the flute, clarinet, trumpet and assorted wind instruments. No matter how many different instruments she tried, she had not found any for which she had any affinity whatsoever. Amongst wind instruments, that was.

It was strange to find that she actually had musical talent. She wasn't tonedeaf in the least, she could carry her tunes very well, and she had agile and deft fingers. She had no problem picking up the guitar, the piano and even the violin, but none had quite grabbed her like her mother's flute had.

That was until the music teacher and her mother had shown her a very large harp. It had a proper name, but Taylor had never been able to pronounce it at that age, and even when she grew, it had always just been -her harp-, and that had been all there was to it. Her mother had even tried to purchase it off of the music teacher, when Taylor fell in love with the instrument.

And then Annette had died, and Taylor had buried any idea of ever owning, let alone playing, a harp again.

Needless to say, to find a harp waiting for her at the PRT building was not exactly something she expected.

But there it was. Apparently, it belonged to none other than the director herself. The woman had apparently started to play the piano and harp purely for the purpose of training her fingers to move them more quickly and methodically. She displayed her finger ability, despite the fact that they were much chubbier than what they'd once been, by promptly taking apart an assault rifle that Taylor thought looked fairly similar to the stereotypical M16 that she'd seen in countless military ads.

She did this much to the approval and respect of Taylor's own troops. Hell, she might have deliberately done it to remind them that she was not just a washed up desk jockey, Taylor would later suspect.

As for why the woman had the harp in a guest room at the PRT's main building, the explanation had been rather simple.

It was stress relief, and being the PRT Director of Brockton Bay was an extraordinarily stressful job. Admittedly, this was where the instrument was stored while not in use, as she would normally practice it while undergoing the process of hemodialysis, as she explained. She had, while directing them to a place where they could rest for a moment while she took care of a few pressing matters, taken a few moments to explain how they would proceed from there.

Apparently, Director Piggot had to converse with her Deputy, and the Heberts would be able to wait in the room until a Lawyer could arrive to go over the contract in more detail. Really, the amount of bureaucracy there was to doing anything in the PRT was starting to be a little concerning, Taylor mused, though she was thankful that the Director had taken time out of her day to direct them to the room herself.

Admittedly, it was on the way to the Deputy's office and more importantly a water cooler, but it was the thought that counted.

Really, so many strange things had happened in so little time. So much, so many new things...

At the time, however, Taylor could think of none of that, as her throat had caught in a knot and she had to rub her eyes and screw them tightly shut in order to not fear tears leaking out. She took a deep breath.

* * *

"Miss Hebert?" the Director seemed a bit surprised.

"Lord?" Knight tried.

"Taylor," dad interrupted, "are you okay?"

"I-" I couldn't continue, I stopped and tried to swallow the knot that had formed in my throat. Why now? I hadn't seen one in so long. Ever since that day, really, I hadn't even thought about it. "I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head, "I'm okay."

"Ah," Dad said, probably catching on. "It's just..."

"Bad memories?" Knight asked, looking directly at me.

I stopped.

Were they?

Were they really?

I shook my head. "No, sorry, no," I answered, "good memories, actually. I... er, I used to play the harp before my mom..."

The Director nodded then shook her head. "It's an old hobby," she explained. "A man I once knew recommended picking up an instrument for a variety of reasons, including my finger agility," she explained. "Mostly as stress relief."

I nodded. I could use some of that right now.

"Do you still-"

Taking a moment to think, I nodded. At least, in my mind, it came easily. I experimentally wiggled my fingers a little. I don't think I'm terribly out of shape... it's been so long, though, since I've even looked at a string, let alone a full harp. Still... the oddly, almost heart shaped, instrument beckoned me.

"Show me, please," the Director said, arguably the softest I'd ever heard her voice.

Nodding, I sat on the small wooden stool that had been placed next to the concave side. I had been too short and small before, my arms couldn't reach the other side. But now, I experimentally plucked the last few strings. I had to stretch my fingers a bit, but... yes, I could reach all the way. I could feel the slight sting of entirely too sensitive fingertips against the tight strings. Taking a deep breath, I let my mind wander, and my body perform motions it had performed a million times before, thankful for how much more comfortable it was now, done properly.

My fingers danced, from one end to the other, from the most grave to the most acute, the thickest to the thinnest, back and forth. I'd never been one to know much about technique or detail or even the very name of the instrument I was playing. I didn't know the first thing about musical theory. I'd barely gotten to Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Si Do. I hadn't gotten enough lessons, I realized.

And yet... half forgotten lessons came back, quickly and seamlessly. Fingers that should've been bleeding, no longer calloused, danced across the strings, performing a soothing, if repetitive, motion.

My mind completely drifted, and I was no longer there.

Five female voices, singing in perfect synchronization, not one note out of place, a worldless aria, accompanying each stroke, each note I plucked. Not long after, as my mind drifted further, I could hear the perfect notes once produced by the music teacher that had helped me refine my every motion, that had helped me put the song that played in my mind to life, to bring it into the world, his violin joining in at the perfect time, as I had known it would.

And so I found myself sitting in front of my mother, back in grade school, as her flute joined, and I played for hours upon hours, just basking in her presence, dreaming of a far away land. I played and played, as my mother and teacher accompanied me. I could feel dad's hand on my shoulder, keeping me steady as I overreached.

It was only when I felt a hand upon my shoulder that I was taken away from my happy place, that I was awakened from my waking sleep, from the wonderful dream that had consumed me.

I felt it now. The sting in my eyes, the burning feeling. I could feel now, I was having difficulty breathing properly, as my nose had clogged up. I knew, without needing a mirror, that I was a mess. I knew because I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. I have seen something beautiful, something that I will never be able to attain.

For a fleeting moment, I was once more happy, and that made me despair, because I know that I have lost this happiness, this simple joy.

They say that we can only appreciate what we have once we have lost it.

I agree wholeheartedly.

Dad's arms encircled me, and I continued to cry into his shoulder.

He, too, was crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured, "I'm so sorry Taylor, I'm so sorry," he continued.

I didn't know what to say. What could I have said?

I'm sorry, too?

He squeezed me almost to the point I couldn't breathe, but I didn't care.

I don't know how long I just sat there, hugging dad and being hugged in return.

All I knew was that I didn't want to let go.

* * *

So this is just a short little piece.

The only important bit you need to know? Taylor was playing the Final Fantasy Prelude.

If it wasn't obvious enough, Final Fantasy is not a thing in either Bet or Aleph.


End file.
